Aesir's Bane
by Cobalt Dreams
Summary: Loki had never really belonged with the Aesir. His mask of indifference and cruelty has left him friendless. When he pushes them too far, he finds himself on the run - but miraculously, he escapes. Banished from his own world, he wanders to far-off places. What happens when he meets Greek gods and falls in love? This story is NOT abandoned. Does have slash.
1. Prologue

_"I wanna heal, I wanna feel __what I thought was never real_

_I wanna let go of the pain I've felt so long_

_(erase all the pain till it's gone)_

_I wanna heal, I wanna feel like I'm close to something real_

_I wanna find something I've wanted all along_

_Somewhere I belong."_

_-_Somewhere I Belong, Linkin Park

* * *

**Prologue**

* * *

Life was never easy.

That was a lesson that he'd learned early on, when he had been a youngling who didn't fit in with any of his fellow Aesir gods. He had always been an outsider; he didn't truly belong in Asgard, nor Jotunheim where he had originally come from, or even in Midgard where he and his kind were usually worshipped.

It's easy to feel lonely when you're friendless. It's easy to wish you had never been born.

He often found himself wishing that Ragnarok would come sooner than expected.

His inner turmoil was hidden by a mask of indifference, and sometimes, cruelty. He found himself loathing many of his fellow gods, particularly the ones who seemed to live in blissful ignorance of the world.

He was their bane. He was their enemy.

He was Loki.


	2. The Beginning

_"I got a cold stare, the wound's still there_

_But there ain't much left to bleed_

_A short fuse that I still use_

_I'm my own worst enemy._

_Stare at the faces I once knew,_

_lined up just to bury me..."_

-Bullet in My Hand, Redlight King

* * *

**Chapter 1: The Beginning**

* * *

Loki was sitting in his room, reading a scroll of Homer's _Iliad _and snorting at the words every few seconds. He had once heard Odin mention how inaccurate writers' accounts of the gods of the world were. Certainly, the _Prose Edda _were. So far, Homer wasn't any better.

There was a knock on the door, and before Loki could yell for the person to go away, Odin entered. Loki brushed his curtain of hair – black and straight today – out of his face and looked up in annoyance. "What do you want?"

Odin, used to his blood brother's antics, didn't bother to rebuke him. Even if he had, it wouldn't do any good. "I wanted to speak to you about Baldur," he said tersely.

Loki snorted far louder than he had at Homer. "What about him?"

"You need to stop provoking him. It's getting out of hand."

"What are you talking about? Me and Pretty-Boy are best friends. We hang out, we do each other's hair and makeup…"

"Stop it!" Odin snapped. "No one thinks you're funny, brother. There are several people that think I should banish you from Asgard."

"Wouldn't that be a blow," Loki said sarcastically. "Don't say things like that, Odin. You'll make me cry."

Odin's face had become rather red beneath his beard, which was always a warning sign. A warning sign that Loki never heeded. "You go too far."

"What are you going to do about it?" Loki taunted. His scarred lips were twisting into a sneer.

Odin's eyes met his, and Loki was able to see the battle he was fighting inside. There was fury, confusion, and resentment in Odin's pale orbs. Loki felt a small bit of pride that he had been the one to unravel the Aesir's exalted leader.

"You're running out of chances," Odin finally said in a tight voice. "I'll give you one more opportunity. Don't make me change my mind."

Loki's lip curled, but Odin stomped out of the room before he could say anything more. Instead, he rolled his eyes and went back to reading about Prince Alexandros and the kidnapping of Helen.

* * *

The next person to interrupt him was Baldur himself.

Baldur was truly beautiful, with large blue eyes and a yard of golden hair.

Loki resented that. It was just another thing that made the young god seem so utterly _perfect. _

"Have you ever heard of this great thing called _knocking?_" he snapped, throwing down the scroll.

"Sorry," Baldur apologized. The kid actually looked abashed. "Odin told me you were just reading…"

"It's fine," Loki muttered, not meaning it. "What do you want?"

"I wanted to talk about our problem."

Loki lifted his eyes. "If you're talking about me hating you," he drawled, "it's not a 'problem'. It's a _fact._"

For a moment, Baldur looked surprised. Loki wondered if anyone had ever told him that they hated him before. Probably not. "Why? Why do you hate me?" he finally asked.

Loki snorted for the umpteenth time that day. "Do I need a reason? And even if I did, would it be any of your business? Let me answer that for you: _No." _

The oh-so-perfect golden eyebrows furrowed. "Have you ever considered that you might have more friends if you weren't so unbelievably rude?"

"Have you ever considered that I don't _want _friends?" Loki countered in a delicate voice.

Baldur blinked. He had no response.

* * *

Dinner was an interesting affair. It was obvious that Odin and Baldur had shared their experiences with Loki to the entire pantheon, and accordingly, the other gods spent the meal throwing uncomfortable or angry expressions at him. Loki thrived off their turbulent emotions. He couldn't keep the smirk off his face – and wouldn't even if he could.

"So," he finally said jauntily, plopping a sauerkraut ball into his mouth. "When are you guys going to banish me?"

"You know Odin wouldn't do that," Freyr said in clipped tones. "You take advantage of his kindness every chance you get."

"Take advantage?" Loki scoffed. "It's not my fault His Highness is a pushover."

"Pushover?" Thor said in his loud voice. Loki glanced over and saw that he and Tyr were both glaring at him. Thor was fingering his stupid hammer.

Loki rolled his eyes at them. "You kid are such suck-ups."

"Please don't talk to them like that," Sif, Thor's wife, pleaded. Loki's eyes landed on her and her beautiful golden wig that he had gone to so much trouble to get. He bit back the scathing remark that was on the tip of his tongue; after all, it wasn't her fault that her husband was his best enemy.

Silence once again reigned, and Loki busied himself by shoveling large spoonfuls of potatoes into his mouth until Freya moaned that she would be sick if he didn't stop.

* * *

Loki didn't think that Baldur would have the nerve to approach him twice in the same day, but apparently he'd underestimated the other god. After dinner, Baldur entered his room – once again without knocking.

"If you do that again, I'll cut off your hair just like I did to Sif," Loki warned from where he was lounging on his bed.

"I was just wondering," Baldur began, slipping into the chair by Loki's desk, "why you are the way you are."

Loki stared at him. "Is that a trick question?"

Baldur shook his head, and his blonde hair fell into his face. He brushed it away. "No."

"Then be a little more clear."

"Why are you so rude? Why do you have to be cruel to your family members?"

"First of all, you aren't my family. In fact_, your_ family spends most of their free time trying to wipe _my _family off the face of the earth." He was referring to the giants. "Second of all, I'm rude because I want to be. Now, if you're done asking idiotic questions, get out of my room."

Baldur didn't budge, and Loki started to shoot him a glare that would have made most men cower – but then he paused.

Baldur had never been very good at concealing his emotions, and in that moment his feelings were quite clearly written across his face.

An astonished Loki realized that this young god – his blood brother's son – had feelings for him.

* * *

Loki basically shoved Baldur out of his room after that; he didn't think he had the strength to deal with the fact that one of the gods he hated the most had a crush on him. Couldn't life ever be simple?

He frowned as he returned to his bed; he wasn't sure what to make of the situation. This wasn't something he'd ever had to worry about before. After all, he made it his business to become everyone's enemy. Things were just easier that way.

He began to pick at his bedspread absently. Certainly, he could use Baldur's feelings against him if he ever felt the need to.

Or…

The fingers paused. Loki tilted his head as his mind whirred. He had never given much thought to sexual encounters with other men – or even with women. Relationships of all kinds were a weakness, no matter how impersonal they were. It would involve someone seeing a side of him that he preferred to keep to himself.

But Baldur was a sappy fool who wore his heart on his sleeve, anyway. Surely it wouldn't matter if he were to see that side of Loki…

The thoughts kept coming, and Loki found himself staring at the far wall of his room like it held all the secrets of the universe.

Finally, he was struck with the perfect idea. A small smile curved his lips, and his hands reached up to brush his hair out of his face. It would take careful planning, but if everything went accordingly, all would work out as it should.

* * *

The gods of Asgard did not usually take breakfast together; they preferred to do so in their own palaces with immediate family members. So when a message was sent out one early morning for the gods to meet at Fensalir for the morning meal, everyone knew that something was wrong.

"I had a very disturbing dream last night," Frigga announced when everyone had been seated at the table. Her mouth was tight with worry, and her normally-bright eyes were surrounded by dark circles.

Everyone froze. Baldur's knife fell to his plate with a loud _clatter. _It was a well-known fact that Frigga had the gift of foresight, but never before had she shared a prophecy.

"I had no such dream," Odin frowned. As lord of Asgard, he made it his business to known everything past, present, and future.

Frigga laid a hand on his arm to silence him. From the corner of his eye, Loki saw the Vanir twins, Frey and Freya, glance at each other.

"I dreamed of Baldur's death," the queen finally said.

If the gods had been shocked before, it was nothing compared to how they reacted now. Thor and Tyr let out simultaneous roars of disbelief. Vidar and Bragi both gaped at Baldur. Sif murmured "Oh no" under her breath. Odin sat in dumbfounded silence.

Loki watched the proceedings with keen eyes.

Baldur himself had nothing to say. Patient as always, he was waiting for his mother to speak.

And speak she did. "I have an idea," she said when the uproar had died down. "It will take a while, but I think it's feasible. The girls and I shall make a list of everything in the nine worlds that have the ability to hurt my son. Then I will set out to make sure that these things take an oath not to cause him any harm."

"Do you think that will work?" Baldur said, his voice unusually small. His blue eyes were resting on Loki. He was asking _Loki, _the self-appointed trickster, if he thought the plan would succeed.

Loki stared back for a second before speaking. "Yes, Baldur. I think it will work."

And it probably would, he thought to himself. All the worlds are head-over-heels in love with that kid.

* * *

Asgard wasn't quite the same without the female goddesses. The male residents of the heavenly world were twice as glum as usual. Frey, an original member of the Vanir, was usually aglow with an ethereal light. Without his twin sister, though, it was like that light had been extinguished.

Loki had put a stopper on his sarcastic comments and cruel remarks. As according to the plan, he was doing his best to help his fellow Aesir protect Baldur from whatever demise his mother had foreseen. The other gods, though suspicious of his change of heart, didn't question it.

He hadn't actually seen Baldur since that one morning. Odin had decided to build a palace for his second-oldest son, and he and said child were busy overseeing the construction. While Odin was away, Loki had the king's entire palace to himself.

Several weeks after the girls' departure, there was a knock on Loki's door. "It's open," he called, not looking up from the scroll. He had finished the _Iliad _and moved on to the _Odyssey. _

The door opened, and in walked Baldur. He was dressed in black trousers and a dark-blue tunic that brought out the different hues in his eyes. Loki fought the urge to roll his eyes at the picture of perfection. "Did you need something?" he asked instead.

Rather than speak, Baldur looked at the floor. His fingers fidgeted with the hem of his shirt. Loki's eyebrows rose. Why was the younger god so nervous?

"I—" Baldur began. "I—um—"

"Yes?" Loki pressed, doing his best not to sound annoyed. Didn't this kid know that he had better things to do?

Baldur lifted his eyes, meeting the dark gaze of the trickster in front of him. Loki knew that the form he was in – the closest thing to his true appearance—was rather intimidating and couldn't really be called attractive. His lips were permanently scarred from a run-in with the dwarves. His hair was rather stringy and his skin was gaunt.

He sighed and put the scroll aside before sitting up. His hands, pale and long-fingered, fell to his lap. "Is there something you need to tell me?" he said in his most gentle voice.

Baldur's eyes flicked to his now-empty hands, and Loki knew what he was going to do even before he did it.

The blonde moved to stand in front of him with one step of his long legs. Hesitantly, he reached out to pick up one of Loki's hands. "Your skin is so cold," he murmured.

"Not all of us can be perfect like you," Loki couldn't help but say.

At those words, Baldur's face took on his infamous kicked-puppy look. "I didn't mean it like that."

Loki chose not to say anything else.

They stayed like that for several moments, with Loki still sitting on the bed and Baldur standing in front of him, holding one of his hands.

The younger god's hand was soft and warm, and Loki's eyes slid from his face down to his chest. He found himself wondering involuntarily if the rest of his skin felt like that.

When he looked back up, it seemed as though the space between them had decreased considerably. He could count every one of Baldur's eyelashes. For the first time he noticed that the blonde had freckles sprinkled across his nose.

"Why do you have to be so cruel?" Baldur whispered. Even his _breath _smelled perfect, Loki noted with disgust.

"That's who I am," Loki replied, trying not to inhale too deeply. "And from the looks of things, you don't seem to mind."

For once, Baldur didn't speak. He tilted his head forward, and blonde hair tumbled over his shoulders. It shimmered in the light cast by the candle on Loki's table.

Loki was shocked when the other god sat down, actually _straddling _his lap. He fought against the strong urge to cringe. But then he felt Baldur's hands on his chest, pushing him backwards so that he was laying on his bed, and the disgust turned into a feeling of vulnerability. "What are you doing?" he began to demand, but Baldur didn't give him a chance to finish. The blonde crawled over his body, pressing their torsos together, and his mouth latched onto Loki's exposed neck.

Loki's own body betrayed him; he felt a stir of arousal. The feeling of warm lips, a searing hot tongue, licking, sucking, _biting, _was almost more than he could take; it was enough to make him forget the fact that it was _Baldur, _of all people, giving him this taste of pleasure. He wondered where the god had learned how to do this.

He felt Baldur's hips move against his own, felt something rock-hard brush against his own hardening erection, and the small burst of pleasure was enough to make his back arch off the bed in search of more. Baldur took the opportunity to wrap his arms around Loki's torso, holding the smaller body close against his own. His mouth left the trickster's neck, and he buried his face against the still-clothed chest as he ground their hips together. Loki bit back a moan, knowing that if they were caught, they would both be banished from Asgard. He thought the tiny, desperate noises coming from deep inside Baldur's throat were one of the most arousing things he'd ever heard, and wasn't _that _a thought that would haunt him for years to come.

A few more thrusts was all it took to bring each to their climax, and when it was over, Loki found himself staring down at the top of Baldur's head. The other god hadn't lifted his head, and Loki wondered if it was because he was scared of Loki's reaction or because he had fallen asleep.

"Are you planning on staying there the rest of the day?" he finally drawled when his legs began to fall asleep from the weight of the blonde.

First there was a moment of silence, and then came the muffled question. "Do you hate me now?"

Loki rolled his eyes. "I've _always _hated you. Now get off me, you idiot."

Baldur sat up but remained seated on Loki's hips. Loki glared up at him. "I said, _get off._"

Baldur stared at him. "Loki—"

Loki huffed, and with a snap of his fingers, vanished. Baldur fell to the ground in an undignified heap.

Loki popped back into existence behind him. "You really should learn how to listen."

"That's it?" Baldur asked, struggling to his feet. "That's all you have to say?"

Loki crossed his arms. His dark eyes bore into Balder's. "What am I supposed to do? Declare my undying love for you?"

"No…"

"Sing a song?"

"No…"

"This isn't going to change anything," Loki said. "I still don't like you."

The blonde's crestfallen look made Loki want to snort with laughter, but he refrained. Instead he said, "You can kiss me if it'll make you feel better."

Baldur didn't move, so Loki closed the distance between them. "Kiss me," he demanded.

So Baldur leaned forward and covered the scarred lips with his own.

There was no denying that the younger god was a talented kisser, and Loki thought that if it were anyone else he was kissing, he would have thoroughly enjoyed the experience.

When they were done, Baldur ran a finger down the trickster's jawline and whispered, "I'll miss you" before vanishing from the room.

Loki shook his head before taking a seat on his bed and picking up the discarded scroll.

* * *

Since the construction of Baldur's palace was completed soon after their tryst, Loki didn't see much of the blonde god – something that both relieved and annoyed him. On one hand, it spared him from having to see and talk to the other god. The downside was that it hindered his plan.

One morning Loki went down to the Great Hall for the afternoon meal and was surprised to see the majority of the Aesir gods already there. He had become accustomed to dining alone; the girls were still gone, Baldur had already moved into his new palace that he had named Breidablik and Odin, when not at Valhalla, was usually off doing kingly things that Loki didn't really care about.

Today the group of gods was standing in a circle around the king. Loki, after stopping to stare for a moment, pushed his way through the crowd until he could see what was going on.

It soon became obvious to him what all the fuss was about.

Odin was missing an eye.

"What in the name of Asgard happened to you?" Loki asked with just a hint of amusement.

Odin rounded on him. "Your so-called _family _happened to me," he growled. "You giants are all the same. You have to keep _everything _for yourselves!"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Loki said, holding up a hand. "Back up. The _giants _did this to you? Why?"

"Does it matter?!" Odin demanded. "My face is mangled!"

"What happened?" Loki repeated, used to Odin's belittling of the giants; rather hypocritical, since his parents were also Jötnar.

"I went to the Well of Widsom," Odin began to explain, his voice low and angry. He was covering his empty eye socket with one of his large hands. "I didn't know that it was being guarded by that vile giant, Mimir…"

Loki could already see where this story was going. He had met Mimir several times, had in fact considered drinking from the well himself. Mimir's prices had been too steep for him. Odin had obviously thought different.

"He knew who I was," Odin continued in a hiss. "He knew that my eyes are able to see all, in heaven and on Earth. He demanded one of my eyes in exchange for a drink of the enchanted water."

Loki shook his head in disbelief. There wasn't anything Odin wouldn't do to gain wisdom.

Even Thor was staring at his father with an incredulous expression. "I don't believe that was the best decision to make, Father. Now the giants will be able to see everything we do—"

Odin's head shot up. His one eye was filled with rage. He couldn't stand to have his decisions questioned. He opened his mouth to snap back at his oldest son, but Loki was no longer hearing his words. He had just now spotted Baldur standing directly across from him on the other side of the circle. The young god's eyes were filled with yearning, and Loki found himself feeling angry that the kid dared to stare at him like that when it was _his _fault that they had been apart for so long. Then he quickly banished that thought; after all, he hated Baldur. He was only playing this game for his own benefit.

Baldur tilted his head ever-so-slightly towards the exit, and Loki gave a small nod. Breakfast had been completely forgotten.

They both broke away from the crowd; the other gods didn't notice – all attention was focused on the king and Thor. When they reached the hallway, Loki began to turn in the direction of his room – he had barely taken a step when he found himself thrown against the wall. His breath was knocked out of him but he had no time to regain it because Baldur was kissing him senseless.

Loki had to remind himself that he was angry. "Miss me?" he managed to sneer between kisses.

Baldur moaned in a way that Loki took to mean 'yes'.

"Then maybe you shouldn't have stayed away for so long." He clenched his fists, determined not to throw his arms around Baldur's neck and pull him closer. Who knew that kissing could be so pleasurable?

"I'm sorry," Baldur whispered, his breath hot against Loki's mouth. "I've been so busy…Missed you so much…"

An interesting statement, to be sure, Loki mused. After all, he'd never been anything but insolent and foul-mouthed to Baldur.

Loki cut his eyes at the blonde; no way was he going to give in that easily. But before he could come up with some sort of crude remark, loud voices erupted on the other side of the wall. The rest of the pantheon was coming out.

"Let's go to my palace," Baldur breathed. Loki nodded.

There was a small _pop, _and suddenly he was leaning against a completely different wall.

"Now," Loki said. "Where were we?"

* * *

It was a relationship –Loki cringed at the last word—full of heat, violence, anger, and pure, unbridled passion.

They spent the following year meeting as frequently as possible for secret trysts, until Loki was sure that he had Baldur wrapped around his little finger.

He tried to ignore the feelings of discontent that would stir up inside him whenever Baldur would be gone for a long period of time.

He hated those feelings.

He hated Baldur for making him feel that way.

One thing – or rather, person—that Loki had stupidly overlooked was Odin, who was appropriately called 'the Wise One'…and honestly, who wouldn't be wise if they could see everything that goes on in the universe? The All-Father had grabbed Loki by his hair one night during dinner and dragged him from the room. The other gods didn't so much as look up—it was a true testament to just how dysfunctional the family was.

"Do you think I'm stupid?" Odin hissed once they were out of earshot.

"Sometimes," Loki said, backing away and putting a hand on his hip. "But do you care to elaborate?"

"I know _exactly _what's going on between you and my son!" His voice was becoming louder with each word, and Loki could feel his eardrums begin to throb in protest. "What you are doing is _unnatural! _This is a holy residence, and you _dare _to defile it with your acts of—"

He struggled for the proper word, and Loki knew that it was a sign of extreme anger when the wisest being in the universe couldn't find a suitable adjective.

He decided not to wait for the king to finish his sentence. "Sorry, Your Holiness, but it's not really any of your business," he drawled. "If we want to do it like bunnies, then we'll do it like bunnies. You can't stop us."

Odin's face was turning an alarming shade of red beneath the wide-brimmed hat that he had taken to wearing. For a moment, Loki thought that he might keel over from lack of oxygen. But then he spoke.

"You're running out of chances, brother. My patience is wearing thin."

"What a catastrophe," Loki said with an exaggerated sigh and a cluck of his tongue. "Now, if you're done trying to give yourself an embolism, I'd really like to finish dinner."

And with that, he headed back into the hall. That was the last time he and Odin discussed the subject.


	3. The End

_"I like the way you won't apologize_

_I like the way you just demoralize_

_I like the way you always roll your eyes_

_Someone as perfect as you __is hard to criticize."_

_-_Criticize, Adelitas Way

* * *

**Chapter 2: The End**

* * *

The bliss didn't last for long. Odin made sure of that.

Loki knew something was wrong when Baldur appeared in his room unannounced late one night. "You just can't get enough, can you?" the trickster asked with a cheeky smirk. The smirk faded away when he caught sight of the distress on Baldur's face. "What's wrong?"

"Father—Father just told me—"

"Spit it out," Loki snapped.

"I'm getting married."

_"What?!" _

Baldur didn't bother to repeat himself. The anguish in his eyes was one of the most pathetic things Loki had ever seen.

"He did this on purpose," Loki growled. "Just wait till I get my hands on him."

"Don't," Baldur pleaded. "I don't want to cause any trouble. This doesn't have to change things between us…"

Loki's eyes snapped sparks at his words. "So I'm not worth the trouble to you?"

Baldur's jaw fell open. "What? No! That's not what I—"

"Because let me tell you something," Loki said, speaking over him. Anger was rising in him faster than magma rose in an erupting volcano. "I'll be _glad _to get rid of you. Do you think I have nothing better to do than spend all my time with an annoying, know-it-all kid who's mediocre in bed?"

"But – you just said—"

_"But you just said," _Loki mocked in a high-pitched voice. "I don't _care _what I just said. Why don't you go home and cry to your wife?"

Baldur seemed to be frozen in place. His blue eyes were as wide as saucers, and his mouth was still hanging open.

"Go!" Loki repeated, his voice low and hard.

When Baldur still didn't move, the older god took a menacing step forward. _"Get out of my room!" _he shouted. Dust fell from the ceiling.

The blonde finally disappeared with a small _pop. _

Suddenly feeling exhausted, Loki turned and collapsed face-down on his bed.

* * *

The day Baldur and Nanna got married was the same day that Frigga and the other Aesir goddesses returned from their year-and-a-half long quest through the Nine Worlds. Loki opted not to go to the wedding, but did decide to attend the welcome-back feast for his "sister" Frigga. He was curious to see if her mission had been successful.

He donned a long, hooded cloak for the event, determined to remain in disguise. He didn't think he could handle face-to-face encounters with any of his fellow gods – particularly not the newlyweds.

The feast was already in full swing when he arrived – except for the fact that no one was eating. Instead, the Aesir and visiting gods had all gathered in front of a platform at the head of the room. Standing on the platform was a laughing Baldur. As Loki watched, the gods proceeded to throw rocks, broken glasses, axes, and even Thor's hammer at the beautiful god. All bounced off him without leaving a mark. Loki's eyebrows rose.

He spotted a beaming Frigga standing apart from the group and made his way to her side. He pulled his hood farther down and said to her in a disguised voice, "It looks like those kids are trying to kill that boy."

Frigga turned to him, and Loki was perturbed by the pure happiness in her eyes. He didn't know that it was possible for a person to be that happy. "Of course they aren't," she said. "They would never hurt him. You see, they know that not a single thing in existence is able to harm him. I extracted promises from everything in the Nine Worlds to make it so."

So she _had _succeeded. In amazement Loki asked, "Really? Not one single thing?"

He was surprised when Frigga hesitated. After a long pause she admitted, "There is one thing. A young sprig of mistletoe on the oak tree behind the palace wasn't able to take the oath, for it is still in the early stages of life."

Loki froze at the words. A small, malicious smile began to curl his lips. He could just imagine the looks on everyone's faces when their dear, invincible Baldur fell to the floor in pain…

Without so much as bidding Frigga farewell, he turned and hurried out of the hall. As quickly as he could, he headed to the back of the palace. A large oak tree stood just as the base of the steps. He bounded down the stairs and instantly saw the tiny growth of mistletoe on the trunk. "Perfect," he breathed, plucking a stem. He clutched it in his fist, and with just a thought, shaped it into a dart.

His hood fell as he ran back into the hall, but he didn't give it a second thought. Hod, a blind god, was standing just inside the doors. Loki skidded to a halt as he was struck with another brilliant idea.

"Why aren't you playing games with the rest of the family?" Loki asked him, trying to keep the sneer out of his voice.

Hod turned towards the sound of his voice and scowled. "Why do you think? I can't see."

"Right. I forgot," Loki said in a half-hearted apology. "Well, if you would like to play, I can help you."

Hod's face brightened considerably. "Really?"

Loki nodded but then remembered that Hod couldn't see the gesture. "Yes," he said aloud. "I have a dart here. Would you let me guide your hand?"

Hod nodded eagerly and held out his hand. Loki, now with a malevolent grin, placed the mistletoe-dart in the upturned palm. Hod took it between his fingers, and Loki took the god's hand into his own. "Ready?" he asked, and Hod murmured a confirmation.

Baldur was still standing atop the platform. Loki could see Nanna standing just below him, a happy smile on her beautiful face. Jealousy rose inside him, and he took careful aim. "Throw it!" he commanded Hod, who did so happily.

The dart soared through the air, its path straight and true. Loki watched it fly across the room, over the heads of the Aesir and then right at Baldur.

At first, Loki thought that nothing had happened. The grin stayed on Baldur's perfect face for a full ten seconds before it began to slip. The blonde god looked down at the dart embedded in his chest directly over his heart.

All motion in the room came to an abrupt halt. The talking died down, replaced by a horrified silence.

Loki reveled in the sudden loss of gaiety. He let his eyes rest on each stunned face.

And then…

_"Baldur!" _Frigga shrieked – the tormented sound of a mother who knows her child is in mortal danger.

Loki's eyes flew back to the platform, and he was shocked to see that Baldur had collapsed. His body was completely lifeless.

"No…" the trickster croaked. "No…"

"What's going on?" an alarmed Hod asked. "Loki?"

Odin, who had been standing with the group in front of the platform, whirled around. His one eye, wild with agony, immediately landed on Loki. _"You!" _he screamed.

"I—I didn't—" Loki stammered. For once, he was lost for words. "Odin…Brother…"

_"You are no brother of mine!" _Odin roared. He turned to the other gods in the pantheon. _"Catch him! Kill him!" _

Loki didn't pause to try and reason with the king. He stood no chance against the might of the furious pantheon.

He vanished on the spot.

* * *

There weren't many places for him to hide; after all, the entire world had adored Baldur. By now the word had probably spread that he had been the one to cause his death.

Midgard would be the safest place, he thought. The humans didn't have the same sort of powers that the other races did, and were much less likely to spot him.

He fled to a mountainous region in Asia, and with a little touch of his powers, built a castle into the side of the highest mountain he could find. There was a vast lake just below it.

The castle had four doors, each facing one of the cardinal directions. This was so that he'd be able to see the Aesir coming for him. He knew they would eventually. It was only a matter of time.

* * *

Twenty years passed in hiding. Loki dared not venture out of his castle. Odin or one of his ravens would undoubtedly spot him if he did so.

He spent his time knitting, inventing new things, and doing his best to not think about what had happened that fateful night so many years ago. He convinced him not to thin k of Baldur, or of Frigga's stricken face as she watched her son die, or of the rage in Odin's eye.

On one such day, he caught a glimpse of movement from the corner of his eye. He heart seemed to leap into his throat and he threw down the threads of flax that he'd been braiding together, prepared to run. But before he could change into a less-noticeable form, someone entered the room.

It soon became obvious that the person wasn't one of the Aesir; nor was it one of the natives of Midgard. She was a giant, one of the fiercest and most horrific that Loki had ever laid eyes on. If he'd been anyone else, he would have been terrified of her. But he was from Jotunheim, and was quite familiar with her race.

"What are you doing here?" he asked. "This isn't your land."

"Nor is it yours," she responded in a voice so loud that it seemed to echo. Loki flinched, worried that one of the gods might hear it. She didn't seem to notice. "I came here to see you, Red Loki. Word of you has reached as far as Jotunheim, and I was surprised to hear that you had hidden yourself from those wretched Ae—"

"Don't say the name!" Loki barked. To speak the name of the pantheon was to as good as invoke them.

She went on as though he'd never interrupted. "I've always admired you, Trickster. You make our race proud. Those gods, they're hypocrites, the lot of them. They scoff at you for being born in Jotunheim, and treat you different, but each and every one of them is a descendent of the giants."

Loki was staring, mouth agape, at the giantess who had entered his house uninvited and went on this tirade. "Who are you, exactly?"

She smiled, revealing crooked black teeth. "Forgive my rudeness. My name is Angrboda."

"How did you find me?"

"That's not important," she said, waving a hand, and although Loki wanted to disagree, she didn't give him the chance. "You're better than all of them, Trickster. Please don't let yourself wallow in grief. They aren't worth being upset over. You are the greatest of all the gods."

She was moving closer as she talked, and Loki found himself staring into her eyes. They were as crimson as the hair that fell over her shoulders.

"You are the most brilliant of them all, and the most creative," she continued in a whisper, until they were less than an inch apart. "I _adore _you."

Loki had heard enough. He swooped forward to claim her mouth in a hungry kiss.

* * *

He spent the next several years in a sort of daze, disbelieving and ashamed of what he had done. He had taken one of the most horrific giants in the Nine Worlds as his wife.

Not only that, but said wife had just given birth to their first child.

Loki had let out a gasp of shock upon first looking at his daughter's face – or rather, half a face.

The half that was there was purely and simply beautiful – a face worthy of the gods.

The other half was skeletal. The skin was missing.

"A monster," he croaked, backing away from the child. "You've given birth a monster."

"Nonsense," Angrboda said airily. "She will grow up to be a queen. All will love her."

And, as usual, her words had a way of comforting Loki. He did his best to love his unusual daughter, whom they named Hel. And compared to their next child, Hel was perfectly normal.

When Loki first laid eyes upon his first son, he thought there had been some mistake. "This is a wolf!" he exclaimed.

And it was indeed a wolf; a wolf that was already half as big as his mother and whose eyes glowed with an evil light.

"Isn't he beautiful?" Angrboda said proudly, and it was at that moment that Loki knew for sure that he had made a horrible mistake in letting her stay. He now had two children by her, and both of them were monsters.

He tried to escape that night, vowing to change into a small form and find somewhere else to hide – he didn't care where, as long as it was away from the Aesir, his wife, and his two children.

He had barely slipped into the hall when Angrboda appeared in front of him. "Are you leaving me?" she said softly. The hurt in her eyes was enough to make him stay.

That decision would prove to be the worst one he made in his long, long life.

The last child born to them was the last straw for Loki. The sight of the massive snake his wife gave birth to drew from the trickster a scream of horror so loud that it was heard in every corner of the world – even in Asgard.

Up in the heavens, Odin leapt to his feet in triumph. In a matter of minutes he had alerted his fellow gods.

In Midgard, Loki knew that the jig was up. He didn't bother to bid his wife and children good-by; in fact, he didn't even look back. He turned on his heel and fled the castle.

Odin was a step ahead of him. By the time Loki appeared outside, the chieftain and his warriors were coming up the mountain.

Loki came to an abrupt halt, and for the first time in many years, he came face-to-face with the people who had been his family for so long.

They gazed back at him, some with sorrow, and others with anger.

"Your game is over, Loki," Heimdal finally called from his place by Odin's elbow. "There's no use running. We have you now."

"You don't say," Loki said sarcastically. "I forgot you were so wise, Heimdal."

Heimdal glared at him.

"Will you come quietly?" Odin asked. "Or will we have to restrain you?"

Loki snorted. "As if you could _ever _restrain me. I know you're smart, O-Great-One…so why don't you stop fooling yourself?"

"You're the one being a fool!" Tyr shouted. Someone hushed him.

"Oh really?" Loki sneered. "If I was so foolish, would I think to do…this?!"

And with one giant leap, he jumped off the side of the mountain and into the lake below.

Someone followed him; he heard a second splash right after he hit the water. He didn't waste time looking to see who it was. With a loud _pop, _he transformed into a salmon and swam as fast as he could out of the lake and into the nearby river.

Whoever it was followed him. He could hear loud splashes as the person raced after him in the rapidly-flowing water.

_They can't catch me. They can't catch me. They can't catch me. _

It was a mantra in his head, a phrase that he chanted over and over again, hoping, praying to the gods that no longer cared…

All of that came to a crashing halt when he felt a triumphant hand grab the end of his tail. The strength in that hand was indescribable, and Loki knew that it must be Thor, because no other god was capable of that sheer physical power.

But Loki wasn't going down without a fight, and when a person is fighting for their life, it's bound to close contest.

He thrashed as hard as he possibly could, stirring the water around him into something that strongly resembled a whirlpool. He heard Thor roaring in frustration, felt him hold on even tighter, and Loki felt an excruciating pain in his tail, undoubtedly caused by the iron gloves that Thor was never without.

The pain caused him, for the briefest of seconds, to pause in his escape attempt. That brief second was all Thor needed to get a good grip on the salmon, and just like that, the battle was over.

Out of the water, Loki was forced to switch back to human form. "Alright, you got me," he snapped at Thor. He felt a small surge of pleasure when he saw that the red-headed god, the eldest of Odin's sons, was covered in deep cuts caused by salmon-Loki's razor-sharp fins.

"About time you gave up," Thor growled, dabbing at one of the worse cuts on his face.

Loki didn't bother to tell him that he _hadn't _given up – just inconvenienced.

Thor kept a strong grip on the trickster's arm, almost to the point of breaking the bone, and led him back to where the other gods were waiting.

"We must return to Asgard," Odin began to say. "Tyr, you will be the first to watch Lo—"

But then the king stopped, his face clouded with shock.

His family turned around to see what was wrong. The problem soon became obvious.

Where Loki had been standing a moment ago, a perfectly normal salmon was flopping on the ground. Heimdal reached down and picked up the fish.

"But – this is just a regular salmon!" he exclaimed. "This isn't Loki!"

"We've been tricked," Bragi said quietly.

And in unison, the pantheon turned towards the river that ran out of the lake, where the real Loki was now swimming to his freedom.

* * *

The river soon opened into the Baltic Sea, where Loki changed into a reef fish in order to survive the saltwater. He was exhausted, barely conscious, but knew that he couldn't stop swimming yet. He was still in Nordic territory.

Eventually he reached fresh-water once more, and knew that he must be in another river. The water was getting steadily warmer. He transformed back into a salmon and swam on. Germania expanded south a considerable distance, and until he reached Celtic territory, he wasn't safe.

He was surprised when he reached a second sea. He didn't recall there being two of them in Germanic land.

It wasn't long before the area narrowed considerably and he found himself swimming between two pieces of land. Only a short time later, he washed up on a dark, sandy shore. His body was beaten bloody from currents that he hadn't noticed. With a _pop, _he shifted back to human form. Seconds later, he was fast asleep.

* * *

When he awoke, the sun had risen and was now illuminating the beach he had slept on. The temperature was warmer than he had ever felt in his life, and the sky was a clear blue. There wasn't a soul in sight.

He climbed to his feet, trying to ignore the aching of his muscles. He knew he couldn't stay on the beach. It was too exposed.

He wobbled into the nearby forest, and the sun disappeared from view. The trees gave him cover.

His first goal was to find a source of freshwater. His throat was dry and scratchy, and his wounds needed cleaned.

He stopped and glanced around, as if hoping to see a stream directly ahead. There were none.

He sighed and continued forward.

He had barely walked ten meters when someone dropped from an overhead tree and landed directly in front of him.

Loki was too tired to be startled but the unexpected entrance, but when he got a good look on the newcomer's face, he let out a gasp of shock.

It was Baldur.


	4. A Chance

_"You see time, time is our friend_

_'Cause for us, there is no end_

_And all you gotta do is,_

_have a little faith in me."_

**-Have a Little Faith in Me, John Hiatt**

* * *

**Chapter 3: A Chance**

* * *

"How…?" Loki breathed.

And then upon closer inspection, Loki realized that it _wasn't _Baldur, but someone who bore a striking resemblance to him. He saw that the nose was thinner and longer than Baldur's, the forehead not as broad, the cheekbones higher, and the hair a shade darker. His bare chest was lightly tanned. And the eyes…Baldur's eyes had always looked at him with hope, respect, and passion. These eyes, exactly the color of lapis lazuli, were looking at him with keen suspicion. Not only that, but the stranger had a bow-and-arrow aimed and ready to fire right at his heart.

Loki, completely caught off guard, held up his hands. "_Létta_," he said in his native Norse tongue. It meant 'stop'.

The stranger, who in appearance was barely past adolescence, jerked his head in surprise. "You're Nordic? But how did you get _here?" _He spoke Norse with an accent so heavy that Loki could barely understand him.

"I'm not sure where I am," he admitted.

At that, the stranger's eyes grew more suspicious than ever. "How could you not know where you are? What is your business here?"

"I—I had to leave my country," Loki stammered. "There are people there that want to hurt me."

The stranger's eyes widened, and the bow lowered. "Surely you can't be _Loki?_"

Loki's jaw fell open. "How did you-?"

"Your king contacted us," the blonde said, not waiting for Loki to finish.

Loki clamped his mouth shut, annoyed at having been interrupted.

"He said that you had killed someone."

"It was an accident," Loki snapped. "I didn't _mean _to kill him. Who are you, anyway? What did you mean when you said the king contacted you? Are you –"

"A god, yes," the stranger finished, interrupting once again. "He sent a message to our herald."

"Your what?"

The other god ignored the question. "We're supposed to capture you and take you back to your own country."

"I'd like to see you try," Loki sneered, more out of reflex than anything else. After all, the stranger was armed. He was not.

His words seemed to have no effect. "We're not going to capture you. We have enough problems in our own pantheon without worrying about the troubles others are having."

Loki tried not to let the relief show on his face. He wasn't sure if he succeeded. "I don't suppose – do you –do you have somewhere I could stay?" He was embarrassed at having to ask for help.

The taller god frowned disapprovingly, and Loki wouldn't have been surprised if he started lecturing him. "You mean to say that you plan to stay here?"

"Of course I plan to stay here," Loki snorted. "You just told me that you aren't going to take me back home. Why would I leave and risk some other pantheon capturing me?"

The stranger's frown deepened. "Running away won't solve anything. You should go back and face them."

"Did I ask for your opinion?" Loki asked.

The other man now looked murderous, which somehow made him look all the more attractive. Unwittingly, Loki felt a stir of arousal.

He swallowed hard.

"Fine," the foreign god growled. "I'll take you to our palace. You can stay there until we decide what to do with you. Take my hand."

"Wh—what?"

Patience was obviously not one of the stranger's strong suits, because rather than repeat himself, he strode forward and grasped Loki's hands in an iron grip.

There was a flash of light, and when it cleared, they were standing in what appeared to be a throne room.

Five thrones lined each wall – almost all of them occupied— and at the front of the room stood two more.

"Father!" the stranger next to him said loudly.

"Ah, Apollo!" the god on the largest throne said in a happy voice. "I was wondering where you'd gone off to. Who is your friend? Well, don't just stand there, boy. Come closer so I can see you."

But Loki didn't listen. At the mention of the stranger's name, he whirled around to face the blonde. _"Apollo?!" _he demanded. "_Apollo?!" _

"Is there something wrong with my name?" Apollo demanded.

"I'm in _Greece?!_"

How ironic that he had just finished reading poems about the pantheon whose company he was now in.

"Of course you're in Greece," Apollo said impatiently. "And while you're in Greece, you will obey my father. He gave you an order."

Before Loki could work out what he'd said, Apollo shoved him forward. He stumbled to the foot of the large throne.

The god, assumedly Zeus, looked nothing like Odin. In fact, he was quite handsome. His skin was clear and smooth, his stern eyes were light blue, and his clothes were nothing short of magnificent. He examined Loki for several long moments before speaking. "Your people are looking for you."

"I know," Loki managed to say.

"Are you planning to stay here?"

"Yes."

The king gave a curt nod. "Very well, then. I'll have Apollo show you to a guest room."

_"What?!" _Apollo demanded. "Father, I am an _Olympian, _not a common servant!"

"Do as I say and stop whining!"

Apollo's lips twisted into a snarl, but he grabbed Loki by the wrist and marched him from the room. Loki craned his neck, trying to get a look at the other gods, but Apollo was walking too fast.

He found himself being led through a beautiful palace, built almost entirely with white marble. It was almost like a small town, with cottages, kitchens, chariots, and people hurrying this way and that.

Apollo stopped in an abrupt manner in front of one of the cottages. "You can stay here," he said. "Try not to destroy anything. Hestia would kill you."

"Who?" He didn't remember a Hestia in the poems.

Before Apollo could answer, another god came bounding towards them.

Loki liked him immediately. His green eyes were wicked below his upturned eyebrows, his mouth was grinning, and his black hair, cropped just above the ears, was sticking straight up. "Apollo, you shouldn't be rude to guests," he chastised the blonde.

"Hermes, you should learn to mind your own business," Apollo said in a mocking voice that didn't suit him at all.

Hermes stuck his tongue out before offering a hand to Loki. _"Khai-re," _he greeted in what Loki assumed was Greek.

Loki took the hand – and then jumped when he felt a shock run through his body. It was like he'd been struck by lightning.

Hermes cackled and Apollo pursed his lips, once again wearing that smoldering expression of disapproval.

"Good one," Loki laughed when the initial shock passed.

Hermes grinned. "Thanks."

"Great," Apollo groaned, sweeping his hand dramatically over his eyes. "Now there are two of them."

"Don't be such a party pooper," Loki said to him, and those blue eyes – so like Baldur's and yet so different—narrowed.

"Listen closely, _Trickster, _because I'm only going to say this once. You _will _respect me while you're staying here, or I'll make whatever your family was going to do to you look like a walk in the Acropolis. Do you understand?"

Hermes gave Apollo an amused glance. "Cut the tough act, Apollon. No one's scared of you."

"I wasn't talking to you, you annoying little brat," Apollo growled, his eyes still glued to Loki. "Do you _understand me_, Trickster?"

"Sure."

Hermes stifled a laugh as Apollo glared at him and then stormed away. "Don't mind him. He's always been touchy. Or at least he has for as long as I've been alive."

"You're younger than him?" Loki asked. It was no big surprise. The dark-haired god _looked _younger.

Hermes nodded. "Yeah. Are you going to go inside or just stand out here all day?"

So Loki opened the door and stepped into his new home. Hermes followed him. "Please come in," Loki said sarcastically.

Hermes grinned and sat down at a nearby table. "I'm an Olympian. I'm allowed to do as I please in my own palace."

Loki sat down as well. "Everyone keeps saying that, but I have no idea what an Olympian is."

A dark eyebrow rose. "You've never heard of us?"

Loki shook his head. "Back home, we don't talk a lot about other cultures. We don't talk a lot in general, come to think of it."

"Sounds homey. Well, the Olympians are the gods in charge of the pantheon here in Greece. There're twelve of us. I'm the youngest."

"Oh," Loki said slowly, remembering what he had read. "'Olympus is the abode of the gods that stands fast forever'."

"You've been reading Homer," Hermes chuckled. "Well, you're right. The palace is called Olympus. It's named after the mountain that's right below us on Earth." He jabbed his thumb in a downward motion to emphasize.

"Oh." Loki was silent for a moment as he processed this new information. "Well, I'm from up north. The gods in our pantheon are called the Aesir—"

"I know," Hermes said with a laugh. "I've been to your country dozens of times. Odin's a crazy-looking guy. Especially after he lost his eye."

Loki's jaw fell open. "You _have?" _

"Of course. I'm the messenger for our father. It's my job to keep all the pantheons connected."

"Then why—" _Why haven't I heard of you? _he wanted to say, but kept silent. Truth be told, he was slightly embarrassed to be so clueless about the world beyond his own territory. "Zeus is your father, right?" he asked instead.

"Of course."

"So Apollo's your brother?"

"Half-brother," Hermes corrected. "We have different mothers."

A slow grin spread across Loki's face. "I'm hoping that at least one of them is the queen?"

"Nope!" Hermes laughed, and Loki thought that the messenger had one of the nicest laughs he had ever heard – it was like the pealing of bells. "Apollo's mother was a Titan – that's the pantheon that was in charge before we threw them over. That was all before my time."

"Right," Loki recalled. "Her name is Leto, isn't it? According to Homer, she has really nice hair."

"I've never met her, so I wouldn't know. But yeah, that's her name."

"Well, Zeus seems nice," Loki said, leaning back in his chair.

"Most of the time," Hermes agreed. "He can be arrogant, but he's usually fun to be around. He's the kind of person whose laugh makes other people laugh."

"Can you tell me more about the other Olympians?" He figured it was probably a good idea to learn about the people he would be staying with – and to keep his mind off the disaster that he'd left behind. The person who'd killed. His lover.

"Well, you already know about me, Apollo, and Zeus," Hermes said thoughtfully. "Let's see…well, four of them are Zeus's siblings. That's counting Hera. They're all from the last generation of Titans. The rest of us are his children…the ones that were lucky enough to be born full-blooded gods."

"From what I've read, you guys don't get along much better than the Aesir do," he said with a small smirk.

"We fight a lot," Hermes admitted. "But we love each other. After all, family's all you have in the world."

His words made Loki slouch down in the chair. He wasn't used to feeling so guilty about his own actions.

Hermes noticed and in a quiet voice said, "I'm sorry. I hope you're able to work things out with your own family."

"They aren't really my family," Loki muttered. "I'm not related to any of them. I've just lived with them for the past thousand years or so. I—I don't really want to talk about it."

Hermes' smile was warm and understanding. "If you ever do want to talk about it, I'll listen. Or you can go talk to Hades. He's sort of the pantheon counselor."

Loki glanced up, taken aback by the kindness. He wasn't used to such compassion from other gods, having always been an outsider.

_Maybe now is a chance for a fresh start, _a small voice said in the back of his head. It sounded suspiciously like Baldur.

"I can't believe how nice all of you are," he muttered, voicing his thoughts.

Hermes laughed once more. "Not _all _of us are. I'm the nicest of the twelve. But as long as you don't get on anyone's bad side, you should be okay." He paused and added sheepishly, "I've only been around for a few years and have already managed to make my uncles and brothers hate me."

Loki didn't see how anyone could be capable of hating the messenger, but didn't say that out loud. "Who's your favorite sibling?"

"Apollo," Hermes answered without missing a beat.

Loki was surprised by the answer. "Really?" He couldn't see easy-going Hermes and uptight Apollo getting along very well.

Hermes grinned. His teeth flashed in the light. "We argue all the time, but he's my best friend."

"He seems really—tense."

Hermes shook his head, the smile still playing on his lips. "He just doesn't like you."

"Correct," a voice agreed, and Loki and the messenger looked up to see Apollo standing in the doorway. He had put on more clothes (to Loki's relief) but the scowl hadn't left his face. "Hermes, would you please come do your job so Zeus will stop sending _me _to do his dirty work?"

"I wish I could, but I don't want to."

Loki couldn't keep himself from sniggering at the brunette's witty retort. Apollo's face was growing stormier with each passing second.

"Apollo, you really should develop a sense of humor," Loki remarked when the laughter subsided.

"_Don't _say my name like you know me," Apollo snarled. "In fact, don't even speak to me. I don't want to sully myself by associating with one of you petty little Norse gods."

For a moment, Loki was stunned speechless. "What's your problem?" he eventually demanded, jumping to his feet.

Apollo straightened up, and for the first time Loki realized that the blonde Greek stood at a rather imposing height. "I have no respect for runaways," he said coolly. "I have no respect for cowards that are too afraid to face the punishment that they deserve."

Loki heard a chair scrape against the floor, and then Hermes appeared at his elbow. "Apollo, that's enough," the messenger said. "It's not any of our business."

"I think it became our business when he chose to hide at _our _palace!" Apollo said heatedly. "How do you think that's going to make us look?"

"You're the one that brought him here!" Hermes declared before sighing. "Alright, you need to calm down. Let's go." He strode forward, grabbed the blonde by the elbow, and dragged him towards the door. Just before they left he turned around and said apologetically, "We'll finish our talk later, okay?"

Loki nodded, and Hermes finished pulling the blonde out of the cottage. Just before the door closed, Loki heard Apollo mutter, "Sure, just abandon me to talk to _him._"

He sighed. He had killed one annoying blonde just to move in with another.

* * *

It took less than twenty-four hours for the Olympian gods to become just as wary of Loki as the Aesir had been. It all started when Loki spotted Hermes running past the cottage through the front window.

He rushed through the door and called, "Hermes!"

Hermes skidded to a halt; his sandals made a screeching sound against the marble floor. He turned around and Loki saw that his dark hair was soaked with sweat, and small beads of perspiration coated his bare chest. "Loki," the messenger greeted him breathlessly. "Did you sleep good?"

"Well enough. Um…what exactly is it that you're doing?"

"Jogging," Hermes said brightly. "I go for a twenty-mile run every morning before work."

"You jog around the palace?"

"Not usually," Hermes admitted. "I've gotten in trouble for it before. But I knew you'd be waking up soon and I didn't want you to have to wander around alone."

Loki stared at him, astounded at the sheer kindness. "Thanks…"

"No need to thank me," Hermes laughed, waving a hand. "But if you see Poseidon anywhere—"

Before Loki could ask who Poseidon was, loud footsteps echoed down the hall behind them. Loki turned around, confusion etched across his face, and next to him, Hermes began to curse under his breath.

One of the most intimidating people that Loki had ever laid eyes on immerged from the corridor. His skin was ghostly pale. Hair so blonde that it almost looked blue fell to his shoulders. His eyes were the color of the ocean on a cold, rainy day. His bloodless lips were twisted into an ugly scowl.

"What did I tell you about jogging in the palace?!" he demanded of Hermes. The messenger seemed to shrink; his large eyes were cast downwards. "Not to," he mumbled.

Loki couldn't help but pity his new friend. In an effort to get his attention off of the messenger, Loki let out a loud cough.

It worked. The blonde god whirled around to face the Norse trickster. "Who are you?!" he snapped.

Loki ignored the question. "Poseidon, I presume?" he drawled.

"What's it to you?"

"You weren't being very nice just now." He paused and examined the nails on his left hand before continuing. "I don't like people who aren't nice."

"Does it look like I _care _if you don't like me?" Poseidon snarled. "You insolent _fool. _I could drown you in your bed in the blink of an eye."

Loki didn't stop to consider the oddness of that sentence. He threw back his shoulders, plastered his best sneer on his face, and snapped his fingers.

At first, Poseidon looked confused. But when he saw that Hermes was staring at his body in openmouthed horror, he glanced down.

His roar of rage shook the entire palace. Instead of the fine robes that he had been wearing ten seconds ago, he was now wearing a frilly dress not unlike the ones favored by wealthy women where Loki had come from.

"You – you—" he sputtered. _"Change my clothes back _now!_" _

"Sorry," Loki said, once again looking at his nails. "No can do. It's stuck."

"_What?!" _Poseidon roared. He bended down and lifted the hem of the dress, attempting to pull it over his head. It stopped just above his waist. After a moment of struggling, he dropped the skirt and glared at Loki with murder in his eyes. "I will break every bone in your body," he hissed.

"_Run!" _Hermes cried.

Loki didn't need to be told twice. He turned on his heel and followed the sprinting messenger down the hall with Poseidon hot on his heels.

They dashed into the throne room, sprinting past several confused gods on the way. Loki followed Hermes to the front of the room, where they both dodged behind Zeus's massive throne. The queen –Hera, Loki thought her name was—turned around in her own throne and shot them both an irked glare.

Poseidon skidded to a halt in front of the dais, his frilly dress swaying around him. "Come out, you cowards!" he bellowed. Loki peeked out from behind the throne and saw that his face was thunderous.

"What, pray tell, is going on?" Zeus asked. His voice was dry, as though this sort of thing was a common occurrence. Then he saw what Poseidon was wearing and blanched. "Brother, what in the name of Olympus are you wearing?"

"Why don't you ask that _imbecile _hiding behind you?_" _Poseidon growled, pointing at Loki. "Are you making a habit of inviting morons to live with us now? Just when I thought you couldn't sink any lower."

"Watch your mouth, Poseidon," Zeus warned, his eyes narrowing in a manner very similar to that of Apollo. "I will not have you insulting me in my own court."

Poseidon sneered but remained silent.

"Father, you never did explain to us who this new person is, or why he is here," a female voice said. Loki peered to the side and saw that a goddess had climbed from her throne and was now standing next to Poseidon. She was very beautiful – her face was fierce and proud, and a white dress fell to the top of her bare feet. Her dark hair was pulled away from her face in a haphazard manner, as though she couldn't be bothered to deal with it. Her eyes, large, filled with wisdom, were the color of mercury. There were no cosmetics on her skin. "I'm sure we would all be more understanding of his presence if you were to explain everything," she continued.

Zeus's eyes fell upon this woman, and his expression softened. Loki wondered if she was one of his many lovers –it would certainly explain his soft spot for her. "Very well," the king agreed. "Trickster, come here."

Loki hesitated, glancing at Hermes. The messenger looked just as reluctant as Loki felt, but together they stood up and made their way to the front of the dais.

Zeus didn't seem to notice Hermes. "Explain the reasons behind your presence here," he commanded Loki, waving a hand at the gods occupying the thrones.

Loki hesitated, not liking the idea—but it didn't look like he had a choice. Slowly, he turned around. The gray-eyed goddess and Poseidon were standing mere feet away from him, one of them with an inquisitive expression, the other with murder in his eyes. Loki tried not to look directly at them –instead, he focused on the deities in the thrones.

For the first time, he got a good look at the infamous Olympians that Homer had spent so much time writing about.

He immediately caught sight of Apollo. The blonde's perfect lips were stuck out in a pout that Loki was determined _not _to find unbelievably delectable. His long hair was done in a braid that hung against his bare chest, very nearly reaching down to his waist.

Next to him was another male, one whose dark eyes were analyzing Loki with a mixture of suspicion and curiosity. His biceps were larger around than Loki's thighs. A spear was leaning against the side of his throne. Loki thought that it might be a good idea to steer clear of him.

Across from spear-god was another female. Her golden-brown hair was even longer and curlier than Apollo's, reaching down to the top of her thighs. The front of it had been done into braids and fashioned into a headband. Her eyes were the same azure as Apollo's, and her mouth the same shape. Clearly, they were siblings. Loki recalled that Apollo had a twin. He wondered if this was her.

"Are you going to explain yourself or just keep staring at us?!" someone demanded, and Loki turned to see yet another god, this one with shoulder-length black hair and narrowed black eyes.

The Norse god scowled. "Fine. My name is Loki. I'm from up north –I belonged to a pantheon called the Aesir."

"I've heard of them," someone said quietly. "Very odd people."

Loki chose to ignore that remark.

"None of them liked me very much—"

"I wonder why," Poseidon said sarcastically, crossing his arms over the front of his dress.

"—but there was this one god that was different," Loki pressed on. His eyes involuntarily traveled over to Apollo. This didn't escape the notice of the Greek god. His golden eyebrows rose.

"I never liked him. He was just too _good. _Everyone loved him. As it turned out…" He paused, feeling awkward with everyone staring at him.

"Yes…?" the gray-eyed goddess pressed.

"Uh…he _liked _me," Loki said. "A _lot._"

"He must be insane," Poseidon declared, the sneer returning to his face. "You aren't even attractive."

Loki shot him a glare but didn't respond. Instead, he went on with his story. "We—um—had a relationship. Sort of. But then he got married, and everything kind of fell apart."

The next part was hard for him to say, because he had never admitted it before. Hermes reached out and put a comforting hand on his arm, and he took a deep breath before going on. "I guess I was jealous," he mumbled, staring at the ground. "I wanted to hurt him, because he hurt me. I—I didn't mean to kill him. But I did. It was an accident." He said the last part in a firm voice before glancing up at the other gods. Once again, his eyes travelled to Apollo. The archer was looking at him with furrowed eyebrows. Next to him, the spear-god was blank-faced. Poseidon was rolling his eyes and huffing something that sounded like, _"Idiot." _

Behind him, the queen's lips were pursed.

There was a goddess at the far end of the room who was leaning towards him with compassionate understanding in her eyes. In spite of himself, Loki felt comforted.

"I see," the gray-eyed goddess said in a quiet voice. "While I don't agree with running away from your problems—"

Loki snorted. What did she know?

"—I do hope you find sanctuary here. Perhaps we can help you get back on your feet."

"Accidents happen," Zeus added, his deep voice a low rumble.

"Yeah. Well, don't worry," Loki said, still mumbling. "I promise I won't kill any of you."

"That would be quite a feat," Apollo's voice said, "since we can't be killed."

Loki turned around to face him, a sarcastic comment on his lips. The words died when he realized that Apollo was now standing a mere foot away from him. This was the closest that Loki had ever been to the Greek archer. He could see every one of the long, coal-black eyelashes that framed his bright blue eyes, the exact shade of his flawless skin, and the gentle ripple of the muscles in his chest when he shifted his weight. And standing so close, Loki was hit by an intoxicating scent. Suddenly, he felt extremely light-headed and warm. "Really?" he heard himself say.

"Indeed," Apollo said in that dry voice of his. "So don't get any bright ideas."

"I wouldn't hurt you." He hadn't planned on saying the words; they just slipped out.

Apollo's eyes narrowed in a way that Loki was beginning to associate with the Olympian family; it was both intimidating and attractive in a smoky, dangerous way. But he didn't say anything, and Loki turned back to Zeus.

"Can I go now?" he asked hopefully. _Not that you could stop me, _he wanted to add, but chose not to.

Zeus grunted in a way that Loki took to mean 'yes', and he happily sped out of the throne room with Hermes right behind him.

"What was _that about?!_" Hermes demanded once they were back in Loki's cottage. "Do you _like _Apollo?!"

"What?!" Loki yelped. _"No! _Of course not. I don't even know him."

Hermes was glaring at him with a fierce expression that seemed very out of place on his youthful face. After a moment, he relaxed. "Alright. Just—"

His voice trailed off, and he looked away.

Loki was confused, but let it drop. "So, care for a little prank?"

Hermes perked up. His bright eyes, as green as emeralds, began to twinkle. "What'd you have in mind?"

"Well, your family seems kind of serious. I was thinking that maybe we could – ahem—_relax _them a little bit." His lips twisted into a malicious grin.

"I have the perfect idea!" Hermes exclaimed. There was a similar grin on his face, and with a flourish, he produced a small vial out of thin air. "I've been working on this _forever. _We could try it out!"

"What is it?" Loki asked curiously.

The grin widened. "You'll see." And then the smile faded, replaced by an inquisitive expression. "There's something that I've been wondering. I know that you're a shape shifter, and –well, is that you're real form?"

"No," Loki admitted, brushing his curtain of stringy hair out of his face. "But it's my favorite."

"Really?" Hermes eyed him, and Loki scowled. "What's wrong with it?"

"It's really creepy," the messenger responded.

"Not all of us can be perfectly beautiful like your family," Loki snapped, insulted.

Hermes laughed. "First of all, not _all _of us are beautiful. Second of all, you might be better looking than all of us. I wouldn't know since that isn't your real body."

"Do you have a point?"

"I want to see your real form," Hermes told him.

"No," was Loki's curt response.

"Yes!" Hermes demanded.

"No!"

"Yes!"

_"No." _

"Come on!" Hermes begged, his eyes growing wide and watery and his lips sticking out in a pout.

Loki caved. With an annoyed sigh, he began to morph. His hair grew longer, his eyes grew larger, and his lips fuller. His slim body lengthened until he stood taller than Hermes.

When the process was done, Hermes was staring at him with an open mouth. "Whoa."

"What?"

"You're—you're beautiful," Hermes admitted, his cheeks coloring slightly.

It had been a long time since Loki had been complimented. He had forgotten how nice it felt. "Thank you," he said, sincere for what might have been the first time in his life.

"Your hair," Hermes said, stepping forward and taking a strand between his fingers. The color was a rich auburn. "I've never seen anything like it."

"It's nothing," Loki muttered, batting the messenger's hand away. He didn't like to be touched.

Hermes didn't seem to mind. "Getting back to the prank," he said, his grin returning in full-force. "I think we should put _this,_" he held up the vial, "in my father's wine tonight."

"That's brilliant!" Loki breathed. Then he was struck by an idea. "Let's sneak into the kitchen and pour it into the whole bottle! That way _all _of them will drink it!"

Hermes began to giggle. The messenger's laughter was contagious, and Loki found himself chortling as well. "That's a great idea," the Greek god gasped. "Absolutely brilliant."

"Let's go to work," Loki grinned.


	5. Rendezvous

_"Here's to the nights we felt alive_

_Here's to the tears you knew you'd cry_

_Here's to good-bye_

_Tomorrow's gonna come too soon."_

**Here's To The Night****, Eve 6**

* * *

**Chapter 4: Rendezvous with the Delphi Lord**

* * *

"Did you do it?" Loki whispered when Hermes slipped into the seat next to him at the dinner table.

The messenger nodded, grinning from ear-to-ear. "Yes. All of the wine is now officially contaminated," he whispered back.

Loki couldn't wait to see what the effects of the strange powder were.

It soon became glaringly obvious.

Zeus, being the king, was the first to be served a glass of wine. He accepted the goblet from the server girl and downed all of the contents in one go.

Loki watched the king with rapt attention, eager to see the side-effects. He could feel Hermes shaking with silent laughter next to him.

Zeus became rather still in his seat as the server girl made her way around the table, pouring wine for the other eleven gods. As Loki watched, the king's pupils seemed to become larger with each passing second, until only a thin ring of blue was visible. His face was becoming steadily redder.

Loki wasn't the only one who noticed.

"Darling?" Hera said, her voice curious. "Is something the matter? You look rather—"

Zeus turned to face her before she could finish and his eyes widened as though he were seeing her for the first time. He leaned towards her, his blonde hair tumbling over his shoulders. "Have I ever told you," he said in a low, raw voice, "how utterly, astoundingly _beautiful _you are?"

Loki had to force himself not to laugh when Zeus began not-so-subtly sliding his hand up his queen's leg. Hera let out a small gasp, but no one else noticed.

Loki turned his attention to Hermes. "An _aphrodisiac?_" he whispered. "You gave your entire family an _aphrodisiac?!_"

"Brilliant, isn't it?" Hermes sniggered into his food. "Oh gods—look!"

The goddess that so strongly resembled Apollo was staring down at her food with a very confused expression etched across her face. Her breathing was noticeably rapid—her chest was heaving beneath her dress. As the messenger and trickster watched, she glanced up—and her gaze fell upon the spear-god, who was sitting across from her.

"Ares," she said in a throaty whisper, leaning towards him. "I've been meaning to ask you—are you—um—seeing anyone?"

"Uh, isn't she supposed to be a virgin?" Loki said in Hermes' ear, and the messenger snickered and nodded.

"Artemis!" Apollo suddenly barked, glaring at his look-alike. She had reached across the table and entwined her fingers with Ares's. "What are you _doing?!_"

"Shut up, Apollo," Artemis said, not tearing her gaze off of Ares's stunned face. "This isn't any of your business." And then, as they all watched, she took one of Ares's fingers in her mouth and sucked on it gently.

Apollo, after staring at them in horror for a moment, snorted in disbelief and took a long pull from his goblet.

Spotting this, Loki watched the blonde hungrily.

It didn't take long for the effects to begin to show. Within minutes, Apollo was twirling a strand of his hair around his finger and squirming in his chair uncomfortably. His cheeks were tinted pink, and his beautiful lips parted as he inhaled deeply.

Loki was surprised when the archer suddenly shot out of his chair and fled the room, but it only took him a second to decide that he should follow. "I'll be back," he muttered to Hermes before taking off after Apollo.

The fair Greek god was all but sprinting down the hallway when Loki caught sight of him. "Apollo!" he shouted, and the archer came to an abrupt halt. He turned around and for a moment, looked confused. "Who-?" he began to ask.

"It's Loki," the trickster explained hastily, remembering that he was now in a different form.

The confusion was instantly replaced by a glare. "Leave me alone!" he snarled.

"Why?" Loki asked, approaching the other god with a sweet smile on his face. "Is something wrong?"

"That's none of your concern," Apollo snapped. There were small beads of sweat on his forehead, and he pushed his heavy hair out of his face.

"What if I _want _it to be my concern?" Loki's voice lowered as he took another step closer.

"I don't _want _you to want it to be your concern," Apollo countered, taking a step back. "Go away, you annoying cretin."

Loki could see that Apollo's icy demeanor was beginning to fail. Only a little more wheedling and he would have what he wanted…

Although he wasn't sure if he even knew what that was.

"I could make you feel better," Loki whispered, stepping as close to Apollo as he dared.

The other god's eyes were lust-blown and so incredibly sultry beneath those long eyelashes. Loki reminded himself to breathe.

"Could you?" Apollo whispered back, and Loki was stunned when the blonde reached out with one long finger to stroke his jaw.

For once, he didn't mind being touched. All those passionate nights with Baldur came crashing back to him, and oh gods, it had been _so long. _

He leapt forward, very nearly knocking Apollo to the ground. Lust was coursing through his body like white-hot knives, and he was almost sure that he would explode if he didn't get release soon.

"I need you," Loki growled ferociously, and Apollo growled right back at him. Before the Norse god could comprehend what was happening, Apollo's mouth was attacking his in one of the least-romantic kisses he'd ever had, but that didn't matter because it was filled with unbridled need, all teeth and tongue and the softest lips he'd ever felt in his long, long life.

Loki took that lower lip in his mouth and bit down hard enough to draw blood. Apollo let out an erotic noise that went straight to Loki's groin, and when the blonde moved his head back, Loki saw that his mouth was smeared with blood and his eyes were filled with an unbelievably fervid mixture of hate, longing, and something else that Loki couldn't quite identify.

"If you don't take me to bed _right now,_" Apollo snarled, "I'll make you wish that you'd never been born."

That was all the encouragement that Loki needed; he swept forward once again and his teeth latched onto Apollo's slender neck. He could feel the blonde's pulse beneath his lips, feel the blood coursing rapidly through his veins. A small _pop, _and they were back in Loki's cottage, Apollo flat on his back in bed and Loki crouched over him.

_"Touch me," _Apollo hissed, his eyes wild.

Loki obeyed for once in his life.

He ran his hands over the perfect face, the sinewy neck, let his fingers play with the hard nipples, and swallowed hard when Apollo arched his back in a way that was indescribably erotic. He paused, drinking in the sight, and that was all the time Apollo needed to grab him around the waist and reverse their positions.

Loki didn't have time to think before Apollo's mouth went to work, kissing him, biting him, sucking, _licking…_

_"Oh,"_ he moaned, his eyes squeezed shut as he reveled in the pleasure.

His hair was spread out on the pillow behind him, and as Apollo leaned over him, golden tresses intermingled with red.

"Sure you can handle this?" Apollo breathed in his face, and _oh gods, _his breath was as perfect as Baldur's had been.

"Are you sure _you _can handle it?" Loki shot back.

Apollo sneered. "Hold on tight, trickster. This is something you'll remember for the rest of your pathetic little life."

* * *

When Loki woke up, the other side of his bed was cold and empty. He groaned; his entire body felt abused.

Judging by the light coming through the window, morning had come and gone.

He groaned again before rolling over.

Before he could work up the motivation to sit up, a loud pounding on the front door echoed through the cottage. _"Loki!" _someone shouted.

Loki grunted in response, knowing that the other person wouldn't be able to hear him.

The visitor wasn't deterred; the front door slammed open and seconds later, Hermes was bounding into his bedroom. The messenger's face was brighter than usual.

Loki peeped up at him from the bed.

"Hi!" Hermes sang, bouncing onto the bed and crossing his legs.

"Hi," Loki muttered, pulling the sheets up to his chin. He was suddenly hyperaware of the various bruises covering his body.

"Our plan worked out great, didn't it?" his friend asked with a pleased grin. "I haven't had such a great night in _years._"

Loki opened his mouth but found that his mouth was too dry to speak.

Fortunately, Hermes didn't notice. "What happened to you last night? You vanished after the first course."

"Did I?" Loki murmured.

Hermes eyed him. "Is everything okay? What happened?"

Loki reached up to rake a hand through his disheveled hair, and the sheet fell away from his body. Before he could scramble to pull it back up, Hermes' eyes riveted to his neck and chest. "

You hooked up with someone!" the messenger exclaimed. "Who?"

"I didn't!" Loki denied hastily. "These are from—um—well, I fell down the stairs last night."

"Lip-shaped stairs?" Hermes asked with raised eyebrows. He leaned forward to brush his fingers against a red mark just under Loki's jaw.

Before Loki could answer, a third person walked into the room. Loki froze when he saw who it was.

Apollo was wearing long robes that fortunately covered every part of his body. Loki had a sudden flashback to the previous night—he vividly recalled his teeth grazing against Apollo's milky skin, his mouth kissing and sucking…

"What are you doing here?" Hermes asked Apollo. The question brought Loki crashing back to reality.

"Do I need an excuse?" Apollo said in a delicate voice.

Hermes stuck his tongue out before commenting, "You look terrible."

An interesting statement, Loki decided, because in his opinion Apollo had never looked better—at least not in the short time that he, Loki, had been at Olympus.

"So do you," Apollo shot back. To Loki's surprise, the archer's cheeks were tinted pink. "I heard you had an interesting night with Aphrodite."

"It was more than 'interesting'," Hermes said, looking much too pleased with himself. "I was _incredible_. What did _you _do last night? Hole up in your room writing poems?"

This time Apollo wasn't the one that blushed. Loki quickly turned his head away before the messenger could spot his red face.

"As a matter of fact, I didn't," the blonde snapped, looking quite insulted. "I spent the night with someone else."

Hermes' cheerful expression fell for a brief second, but he plastered his smile back on before anyone could notice. "Really?" he asked airily. "Who with?"

"That's none of your concern."

As they argued, Loki shrank down further into his bed. If Hermes was as smart as he was reputed to be, it wouldn't take him long to connect Apollo's mysterious lover and the bruises on his Norse friend's body.

"Does anyone want to go eat breakfast?" Loki piped up, cutting across an irate Apollo.

Both of the Greek gods turned to him. "Breakfast?" Hermes laughed. "It's nearly dinnertime."

"But we could take you to the kitchen for a snack," Apollo added, surprisingly kind.

"That sounds great," Loki agreed hurriedly. Anything to distract Hermes.

The two Greek gods left the room, and Loki jumped out of bed and pulled on the first pair of clothes he found. He arranged his hair so that it concealed his neck and then bounded into the next room. "I'm ready!" he announced.

"Your hair looks funny," was Hermes' response.

Apollo shot him a knowing look. Loki shifted uncomfortably. "Are we going to go or not?"

"Sure," the messenger agreed with a bright smile. "Let's go."

* * *

After Loki's stomach was full, the trio wandered aimlessly through the palace. Loki tried to walk behind the two Greek gods; all the better to avoid Hermes' keen emerald gaze.

They were arguing again, something that Loki was quickly learning to accept as being per usual. It wasn't the arguing that bothered him, but rather the topic.

"Tell me who you were with!" Hermes demanded. "I have a right to know."

"No you _don't_," Apollo snarled. "You are not entitled to know _anything _about my personal life!"

"Then why did you tell me that you were with someone last night?!"

Apollo growled but didn't answer.

Loki, trailing after them in helpless silence, prayed that the blonde would maintain his silence.

Hermes, his face turned to the side, pouted prettily. It was a very alluring expression, even on the messenger's impish face. Loki saw Apollo's sharp features soften slightly before his angry expression returned. "You don't need to know who I was with. Let it go before I have to resort to murdering you."

"Can't murder me!" Hermes chanted, doing a little dance to go along with his sing-song voice.

"Don't be so sure," Apollo muttered, and a small smile crossed Loki's face at the tall god's words.

The smile fell abruptly when Hermes spun around to face him. The wicked grin was back. "Don't think I've forgotten about you!" he said. "I want to know who you were with too!"

Apollo's mouth fell open.

Hermes saw this and grinned. "What's wrong, Apollon? You didn't know that our Norse friend shacked up with a Greek—wait." His smirk faded, and Loki suddenly found himself feeling like he was hyperventilating.

_This _cannot _be happening. _

"You," Hermes whispered, and then turned to Apollo. "And _you…_"

Apollo looked stricken for a split second, but he quickly rearranged his expression to look detached. "It's not that big of an issue."

But it _was _a big issue, Loki knew, because whether Hermes knew it or not, the messenger had feelings for Apollo.

"'Not that big of an issue'?" Hermes echoed, his eyes wide. He turned to face Loki. "You—you—you"

"He didn't do anything wrong, Hermes," Apollo called. "Neither of us did. We're both at liberty to do what we wish."

Hermes ignored him. "You _used _him!" he accused Loki.

Loki had been feeling guilty—he _had _been aware of Hermes' feelings for Apollo—but the shame quickly evaporated. "You used Aphrodite!" he snapped. "I'm not the only one at fault here."

"That's not the same!" Hermes shouted.

"Excuse me," Apollo cut in. "What do you mean, 'used'?"

"Loki had the brilliant idea to prank our family!" Hermes cried out. "We put an aphrodisiac in the wine last night!"

Loki sputtered at this twisted version of events. "I didn't know that it was an aphrodisiac! That was _your _idea, and _you're _the one that put it in the wine!"

Hermes shot him a hateful glare, and Loki very nearly cringed at the malice in those normally-cheerful eyes.

He glanced at Apollo and found that the sapphire orbs weren't any friendlier. "You used me."

It wasn't a question.

The trickster could feel his face turning bright red under the furious glares of the two Greek gods. He felt lost for words. He'd had a tiny bit of hope that perhaps things would be different with this pantheon—that maybe he wouldn't be an outsider.

That hope was now gone.

He took a deep breath and plastered on his best sneer. "I didn't _use _you, Blondie," he said to Apollo, putting a hand on his hip. "Aphrodisiacs don't _create _emotions out of thin air. They only heighten what you're already feeling. And besides—" He narrowed his eyes. "I have an inkling that I wouldn't have needed any help getting into your pants. You have people in and out of your bed so often that the sheets are probably never cold."

Apollo let out an angry hiss but Loki didn't give him the chance to speak. He turned to Hermes.

"And _you,_" he spat. "Do you think if you tried _really hard, _you could _be _a little more pathetic? Why don't you just admit to him that you worship the ground he walks on?" He gestured to Apollo. "Do you think he's just going to wait around for you to declare your undying love?" He rolled his eyes skyward. "Good gods, I've stumbled into the pantheon of spineless twits."

With that, he turned on his heel and stormed in the opposite direction.

* * *

He found seclusion in an empty courtyard. He flopped down on the grass with a heavy sigh. Why couldn't life ever be simple?

"Life is never simple," a voice said, and soon the gray-eyed goddess came into his line of vision.

"Did you just read my mind?" he demanded.

Instead of responding, she took a seat on the grass beside him. "I love it here," she said in a serene voice. Her mercury eyes were calm and collected.

In spite of himself, Loki relaxed. "It is nice," he agreed.

They were silent for several moments before she spoke again. "I hope you realize that Apollo isn't Baldur."

He was barely able to maintain his composure; the words took him by complete surprise. _How does she know?_

"Clearly not," he sneered. "Apollo is Apollo. I'm quite aware of that."

She wasn't fazed by his rudeness, much to his dismay. "They may look alike, but they are entirely different people. Apollo is a very special kind of person—"

"Baldur was special!" The indignant words slipped from his mouth before he had processed them.

"—and if you are looking for a replacement for your past lover, you'll be sorely disappointed."

"I'm not looking to replace _anything! _It happened _once_. I wasn't planning on doing it again."

He was lying. He knew that she knew he was lying. Her gray eyes were looking at him with a slight trace of amusement.

"Maybe I like Apollo for Apollo," he said, "and not because he looks like Baldur."

Athena pulled her knees up to her chest. "I've said it once, and I'll say it again. Apollon is very special."

"What exactly does that mean?" Loki said impatiently. He hated it when people spoke in riddles.

"He is easily bored—that's one of the many reasons he hasn't married. He is also a jealous, vengeful god. It takes patience to deal with him."

Loki had learned all of that in the short amount of time that he'd been in Greece. Apollo was fiery, wonderfully temperamental—things that Loki drank up like fine wine.

"And then there's the matter of Hermes."

Those words hit him like a ton of bricks.

"Hermes," he repeated in a shaky voice.

Her eyes studied him critically. "You've already had a run-in with this situation."

She knew everything. It was a little annoying.

"I have," he agreed. "Does—does Apollo know how Hermes feels?"

"On some level, perhaps."

"And does Apollo feel the same way?"

She hesitated. "It's difficult to say."

Loki didn't really care one way or the other—he had asked out of curiosity. "Okay."

"He's not Baldur," she repeated, her voice rather severe.

"I _know _that," he snapped. "I'm not an idiot."

"That's debatable."

He jumped to his feet, fighting the urge to utter some rather colorful Norse curses. "Stupid know-it-all Greek gods," he muttered instead. "I'm out of here. See you later."

She gave him a small wave, and he stomped out of the court yard.

He very nearly ran into Apollo on his way inside.

Both gods stopped in their tracks. Apollo stared down at him, an unreadable expression on his face.

Loki parted his lips, wanting to speak but unsure of what to say. "Um, hi," he finally said. "Look, about what happened earlier…"

Before he could finish, Apollo moved forward with one graceful step, pressing their lips together in a fervent kiss.

"Oh," Loki breathed once they had broken apart.

"I can't stop thinking about you," the blonde murmured. He sounded a little annoyed. "You didn't put anything in the drinks today, did you?"

Loki couldn't stop the smile that spread across his face. "Would you care if I did?"

"Normally I would say yes. But now—" He pressed a kiss to the corner of Loki's mouth. "I'm not sure what to think."

"Then don't think at all," Loki breathed. "I think I like it when you don't think. You're a lot less annoying."

Apollo pulled away, and Loki saw that the sexy scowl had returned to his face. "Excuse me? _I'm _the annoying one? Let me clue you in, you idiotic—"

Kissing was a great way to shut people up, Loki decided.

He also decided that kissing Apollo had become one of his favorite things to do.

* * *

Every time Loki saw Hermes—usually only at mealtimes, because thankfully the herald's job kept him busy—the youngest Olympian developed a very frightening expression that looked extremely out of place on the youthful, sweet-natured face. His eyes spit green sparks, his lips curled into a snarl, and an angry flush appeared on his cheekbones.

No one in his family aside from Apollo and Athena, the gray-eyed goddess, knew what the problem was—nor did they seem to care. They merely did their best to avoid angering him further, usually by trying to pass the potatoes as soon as he asked for them, or pouring his wine first instead of making him wait.

Now there were two Olympians that Loki did his best to avoid—Poseidon was still furious at him for the dress incident too.

Although the Norse trickster tried not to care about his situation with Hermes, he couldn't help but feel just a little sad. He had hoped that they would become good friends. After all, they were very much alike.

Apollo, Loki quickly learned, was quite the handful. Athena hadn't been joking when she said that he was temperamental. He wasn't just a teenager on the outside—he had the personality of one too.

Fortunately there were only a handful of things that could anger him.

_Un_fortunately, when his anger _was _evoked, Apollo became frighteningly violent, ruthless, and spiteful.

And even when he wasn't angry, the Greek god could still occasionally come off as callous. He was very dispassionate when it came to dealing with people that he didn't particularly care for—and even though he and the blonde god were involved in a physical relationship, Loki still got the feeling that he fell into that category. Immediately following their second tryst, Apollo had crawled off the bed and began pulling on his clothes. Loki, still breathless from the encounter, had gazed at his lover and drawled, 'Leaving so soon? Don't you want to stay and cuddle?'

Apollo had turned around, completely blank-faced. His alien blue eyes had met Loki's. In a cold voice he'd said, 'And why, exactly, would I want to do that?'

Loki couldn't deny that the words had stung. That was the moment that he had realized he would never mean anything more than sex to Apollo.

Then again, Loki thought, did Apollo really have feelings for anyone? Was he capable of having those kinds of feelings? He had to have hordes of admirers, looking the way he did, but how could he find out for sure?

Well, there was really only one way.

Loki jumped to his feet and jogged out of his cottage. Without breaking his stride, he went over to the side of the marble walkway and bounded off the edge, transforming into a sparrow mid-fall.

He flew to Delphi, intent on finding Apollo's temple there. It didn't prove to be a difficult task. The massive temple sight took up an entire side of a large mountain.

He dove towards the ground, transforming back into human form when he was two feet away and landing on the soft soil with a barely audible _thud. _

The place was buzzing with activity. A long, long line of people stood in front of an imposing stone building that Loki assumed was the main temple. He counted six columns at the front of the structure.

A group of women stood to the side, singing in beautiful, haunting voices. _"Protector and patron, beloved and pure, blessed and holy—" _

Loki squinted and saw that at the head of the line of people, a man in long white robes was standing. Apollo's priest?

He quickly jogged down the line until he reached the man. "Hey!" he heard someone cry out angrily. "Wait your turn!"

The priest was already talking to someone else. Loki elbowed that person out of the way—much to their chagrin—and faced the white-robed man.

The priest eyed him warily. "Sir, I'm afraid I have to ask you to go to the end of the line—"

Without waiting for him to finish, Loki held up a large bag of gold coins.

The priest immediately shut his mouth and accepted the payment. Without a word, he gestured for Loki to follow him.

Loki did so, trotting after the priest to the back of the temple. The rear of the building was, surprisingly, even more ornate than the front. There were fifteen pillars instead of six.

The priest led him into a small room before turning to face the redhead. "The Oracle—"

"I don't care about the Oracle," Loki interrupted. "I just want to ask some questions."

The priest looked confused. "Questions about what?"

"About the god Apollon. I'm not from Greece," Loki hastily explained when the priest looked suspicious.

"You have my attention," the priest said, inviting Loki to continue.

"Well…"

Now that Loki was there, he wasn't sure what exactly he wanted to ask. There was so much about Apollo that he didn't know.

"Does—does he have feelings? Does he care about anyone besides himself?"

The priest looked horrified. "Of _course _he cares! What would make you ask such a question?"

Loki shifted his weight from foot to foot, tilting his head forward so that his curtain of auburn hair shielded his face from the other man's scrutiny. "It seems as though he's really—well—_cold, _for lack of a better word."

"_All _of the gods are terrible, young man. They are fierce, mighty, and untouchable." He paused before continuing in a soft voice, "Acestor Apollon is the patron of healing. I ask you, how could the patron of healing not care about us? He tells us that he will always be there, that his presence is in every ray of sun…and he cannot speak a lie."

_He's the patron of healing? _"What about people he doesn't like?"

The priest dipped his head. "Apollon is the destroyer of the wicked. He will punish those who have done wrong. He can bring plague with his poisoned arrows."

This struck Loki as being ironic, and his mouth turned up in a slight smile. "The god of healing is also the god of plague?"

The priest smiled as well. "Who but the god who brings plague shall be the healer of said plague?"

It made sense, Loki supposed. "How do you get on his good side?"

The priest lifted his eyes upward, almost as though he was consulting Apollo himself. "There is no one way. The gods are fickle. But the hymns tell us that the best way to seek Apollo's favor is through song."

_Interesting. Very interesting. _

* * *

Loki left the temple soon after that, ambling back towards the long line of people. He was deep in thought.

The group of women was singing a different hymn, this one much nicer than the last.

_"…thy piercing sight extends beneath the gloomy, silent night…"_

He kept walking. The singing became very faint.

"I never expected to see you here."

Loki jerked his head up and came face-to-face with the Lord of Delphi himself.

Loki had never seen Apollo looking so majestic. His curly tresses were unbraided, combed to the point where the locks shone as bright as the sun. Stray strands blew in the gentle breeze. His face glowed with an ethereal light. His eyes exactly matched the color of his rich robes.

"What are you doing here?" Loki managed to say.

For the first time since Loki had been in Greece, Apollo smiled at him. The Norse god's breath caught in his throat, and Loki knew that he would never see a sight more beautiful than that smile. "This is my temple, Trickster. I always come here on the seventh day of each month."

Of course, Loki thought. He supposed that it had been stupid of him to ask why Apollo was at his own place of worship.

"The question should really be: What are _you _doing here?" Apollo asked. "You didn't ask my priestess any questions, so the Oracle can't be the reason."

"I just—uh—wanted to look around," Loki said lamely.

Apollo looked suspicious but didn't press the matter. "Well, I'm supposed to tell you that Zeus is looking for you. There's a matter of some importance that he wants to discuss."

Loki snorted, brushing his hair away from his face. "What could his Royal Heinie possibly want to discuss with me?"

Apollo scowled at the derogatory title. "You've got me. Just go before he gets angry."

"Fine, fine," Loki huffed. "I'm going."

He turned to leave, but before he could disappear, Apollo grabbed his wrist, pulled him back and pressed a rough kiss to his lips. The Norse god found his nostrils flooded with the unusual aroma of sweet bay laurel, his nerves jumping everywhere from the amazing feel of Apollo's soft lips against his own, his mind hyperaware of the Greek god's fingers tracing their way down his sides and then digging into his hips. Loki let out of a muffled "Mmmph" and let his body sag against Apollo's. The blonde held him up with the strength of the immortals.

"I've been wanting to do that all day," Apollo murmured once he had pulled back.

"Just can't get enough of me, can you?" Loki mumbled. His knees still felt like jelly.

Apollo didn't respond.

Loki took the silence as an affirmative.


	6. Be My Breath

_"If I fall along the way_

_pick me up and dust me off_

_If I get too tired to make it_

_Be my breath so I can walk."_

_-Bent, _Matchbox Twenty

* * *

**Chapter 6: Be My Breath**

* * *

The kissing made Loki rather tardy for his impromptu appointment with Zeus, and by the time he popped into existence in the throne room, the king was wearing an ugly scowl. "You're late."

"_Technically, _I'm not," Loki countered. "Apollo didn't tell me _when _to be here, just that you wanted to see me."

"When someone tells you that I want to see you," Zeus growled, "you come to me as soon as the message is delivered. You don't wait until it's convenient for you."

"Whatever," Loki said airily. "What do you want?"

Zeus looked absolutely gobsmacked at the complete and utter lack of respect, but apparently decided that chastising his Norse guest further would do no good. "There are people here to see you," he said instead, his voice curt.

Loki froze. There was nobody in the world that would want to see him—except—

_"Odin?" _the trickster croaked as said Norse king appeared beside Zeus's throne.

"Indeed," the one-eyed god said coldly as Heimdal, Tyr, and Thor popped up next to him. "Did you really think I would simply forget about the person who murdered my son?"

"But—" Loki shot a desperate look at Zeus, one that said, "You _promised _you wouldn't betray me!"

"I didn't betray you," Zeus said quietly, answering the unspoken statement. "He knew you were here."

"I know _everything_," Odin hissed. "These Greeks refused to help us apprehend you, but they can't stop us from doing so ourselves! You will pay for your crimes, Loki. Believe my words."

There was no way out this time. Even Loki could see that. He met Zeus's gaze once more, and perhaps the Greek king could see the anguish and fear in the trickster's dark eyes, because he stood from his throne and approached Odin. "Odin, my friend," he began. "I know of the crime that the trickster has committed, and I realize that he deserves punishment—perhaps if you allowed him to stay here, I could…?"

"Absolutely not," Thor roared. "Do you think we're stupid, King?"

"Why would we leave him here?" Tyr snapped. "So you could allow him to go on living a happy little life?"

"I assure you that I wouldn't—" Zeus began to protest, but Odin cut across him.

"The answer is _no_."

The words were cold, absolute, and final.

Loki realized that he was shivering uncontrollably.

"Bind him, Thor."

As his hands were placed behind his back and the rope tied around his wrists, Loki could only think one thing: That for the first time in his life, his life had been happy. He'd even had friends for a short time. But now it was over, and he hadn't even gotten a chance to say good-bye.

* * *

They took him to an isolated cavern, one with three sharp rocks. They bound him to these rocks and hung a serpent above his head, one that would periodically trip venom onto his forehead. It burned with an intensity impossible to describe, and each time it happened Loki found himself writhing in such agony that spots danced before his eyes. He screamed as loudly as he possibly could, hoping that someone, _anyone, _would take pity on him.

But no one did.

Time was irrelevant. Dawn, noon, and dusk no longer existed in his world. All he knew was the dark cavern, the dampness in the air, the sickening stench of mildew, the chatter of critters hiding in the shadows.

_Drip. _

_Drip._

_Drip. _

* * *

"Loki."

The voice, although speaking in the softest of whispers, echoed throughout the cavern. Loki had long ago fallen silent—his mind was in a far off place, one where drops of venom didn't exist.

_"Loki!" _

Loki felt his body twitch. Awareness hadn't been a part of his life for a long time—or had it been that long since he had been imprisoned? He wasn't sure.

"Loki, can you hear me?"

He thought he felt his head move from side-to-side. Was someone slapping him? His face was cold from the chilly air, numb from chronic exposure to the snake's poison.

"Loki, wake up!" The voice was urgent now, and sounded much closer. "Come on, you have to wake up now!"

It took enormous strength to open his eyes, and at first it didn't seem worth the effort, because everything was blurry.

There was a dim light—how was there a light? The cavern had always been so dark…

And then a face came into focus, and the first thing he noticed was _emerald, _and then an upturned nose, and a mouth pursed into a thin, worried line.

_"Her_-mes," he managed to croak.

The messenger's face broke into a relieved smile. "Yes, it's me."

"What—you—here—"

"We came to rescue you," Hermes whispered. "Now stop trying to talk. You're in bad shape."

_"We?"_

His question was answered when a second face came into view, this one framed by braided blonde hair. Like Hermes, Apollo's face was creased with worry.

Loki opened his mouth, wanting to say something, _anything _to the tall Greek god. He found that he was too choked up to do so.

"Can you heal him?" he heard Hermes said in an anxious voice. "Look at his head, Apollo…"

Apollo leaned forward, the ends of his braids brushing Loki's bare chest. Their faces were a mere foot apart, and Apollo's sapphire eyes met Loki's before flicking up to inspect his wounds.

The lines of worry between his eyes deepened. "I've never seen anything like this," he said, and there was a hint of befuddlement in his normally-calm voice. "Snake venom couldn't do this…"

"Apollon!" Hermes said loudly, and Apollo snapped back to attention.

"I can't heal this here. We need to take him home."

Loki saw Hermes nod. Apollo glanced back down and said to him, "Are you cold? You're shivering."

"Been—cold—so long—"

Apollo unclasped the white cloak that had been wrapped around his body. "Pick him up," he ordered Hermes. "Carefully. Try not to move his head too much."

Hermes obeyed, lifting Loki with strength that one would not expect from such a small body. When the trickster was safely cradled in the messenger's arms, Apollo wrapped him with the white cloak.

There was the sound of beating wings, a flash of bright light, and Loki knew no more.

* * *

When he regained consciousness, he found himself surrounded by people. Like last time, the first person he saw was Hermes, who was standing at the foot of the bed. The relief was gone from his face, replaced by a blank expression. His upturned eyebrows were furrowed slightly.

Athena was standing next to the messenger, her gray eyes sad. "I'm sorry that we couldn't prevent this from happening to you," she said when she realized that he was looking at her. "Even you don't deserve this."

"_Nobody _deserves this." Loki was surprised to see that the words had come from Ares.

"Give him space!" a familiar voice snapped, and Apollo came into view. In his hands he carried a small jar, which he uncapped as he approached the bed.

"What—what is that?" Loki croaked. His voice was still raspy.

"It's a healing salve," was the answer. Apollo looked very strained. "That was no ordinary snake. Its venom burned through your skin like acid."

With that said, he handed Loki a small mirror.

Loki gazed at his reflection in stony silence.

The skin of his forehead had been completely eaten away, as had large sections of his scalp. Clumps of hair were missing.

"I can heal this," Apollo said softly, "but I have to ensure that the poison is out of your bloodstream before I close the wounds. That's what this is for." He held up the jar.

"Will it scar?" he whispered, touching the marks on his lips and thinking that he had enough scars to last him a lifetime.

Loki had forgotten how beautiful Apollo's smile was.

"Not with me as your healer," the blonde said.

Loki couldn't help but return the smile, but it faded from his face quickly when he tore his eyes away from Apollo and inadvertently met Hermes' gaze. The brunette's expression was still blank. Looking at him, Loki felt unnerved and rather apprehensive.

The trickster's lips parted, although he wasn't entirely sure what he wanted to say. "Hermes…"

In the space of a second, the blank mask fell, and such a strong wave of emotions crashed across the messenger's face that Loki found himself feeling overwhelmed.

"I was so worried about you!" Hermes cried, rushing forward and enveloping Loki in a crushing hug (Loki saw Apollo blanch before his vision was obscured by a mass of curly black hair). "I'm sorry for the way I've been treating you."

Loki opened his mouth to tell the kid to shut up—after all, he _had _deserved the treatment—but Apollo spoke up before he could get the words out. "Hermes, he needs _space_."

Hermes quickly backed off, and Apollo stepped forward to administer the salve.

Not long after, the blonde ordered everyone out of the room, declaring that the trickster needed rest, and Loki drifted back off to sleep.

* * *

He awoke to cool hands touching his face.

He lurched forward, startled, but the same hands pushed him back against his pillows. "It's me," Apollo's melodious voice whispered. "How do you feel?"

"Fine," Loki croaked, his voice heavy with sleep. And it was true. For the first time in a long time, he felt like himself. "What are you doing?"

"The poison is out of your blood," Apollo explained, his voice still soft, barely audible even in the silence of the room. "I was healing you."

"Oh." He didn't know what else to say.

Clearly Apollo didn't either, because the healer remained silent, but that was okay, because they didn't need words to convey their thoughts.

_I'm glad you're back, _blue eyes whispered.

Loki's dark eyes blinked. _So am I. _

Then there was a flash of light, so bright that it made spots dance in front of Loki's eyes, and Apollo was gone.

* * *

"You're back." Zeus's voice was curt.

Loki was standing in front of his throne, head bowed. "Yes," he muttered. "I'm back."

Silence.

"I won't be able to keep them away forever," the king then said.

"I know." The whispered words fell from Loki's numb lips.

"Do you have a plan?"

When Loki merely continued to stare at the floor without answering, the king rapped his scepter on the ground in one hard motion. The floor of the throne room shook violently. _"Look at me!" _Zeus demanded in a harsh, powerful voice.

Loki looked.

The Greek king's eyes were electric blue, alive with power. He had stood from his throne and now towered at his full height. "You need a plan," Zeus said. His voice was quiet but hummed with authority. "Otherwise they _will _come again. And this time they will not be so lenient. Do you understand me?"

Loki's dark eyes met Zeus's. "I understand."

* * *

"So do you have a plan?" Hermes asked.

The messenger and Loki were perched in one of the palace's many windows, enjoying the view of Greece far below. It was a cloudless day.

"Not yet."

Hermes' eyes tightened with disapproval but, much to Loki's relief, he let it drop.

Unfortunately, the relief didn't last long. Hermes' next question was, "Have you been seeing Apollo?"

Loki turned to face him, wariness evident on his face. "Actually, I haven't."

Keen eyes studied him. "Why?"

Loki shrugged, not knowing what to say.

"You don't have to stop seeing him just because of me."

Loki remained silent, shifting so that he was once again facing Greece.

Hermes paused before continuing in a quiet voice. "He'll never feel the same way about me."

"Does he know how you feel about him?" Loki asked in a quiet voice.

_On some level, perhaps, _Athena had said when he had asked her that same question. He wanted Hermes' opinion.

Green eyes lifted to stare at the sky above. Naturally pouty lips parted slightly. There was a brief moment of silence before Hermes said in a quiet voice, "I think he does. Actually, I'm _positive _that he does."

* * *

Nearly a year went by, although Olympus was so timeless that Loki barely noticed the number of days rapidly passing him by. He was in a constant state of worry—a worry so fierce that he had become a mere shadow of the person that he once was. Even though he spent most of his time in his true auburn-haired form, he was beginning to closely resemble the pale, gaunt, dark-haired body that he had once been so fond of. He no longer made cruel jokes—he didn't have the strength or presence of mind to think of any. It had also been a long time since he had pranked anyone. The lack of frilly dresses in his wardrobe had made Poseidon confused and not a little suspicious.

Something had changed between Apollo and Loki since the Norse god's return. It wasn't immediately evident _what _that something was. Perhaps it was the fact that Apollo now saw Loki as a patient rather than a lover. Or maybe it was due to the fact that Loki's mind was now so occupied that he didn't have the time to think about delectable blonde gods. It could also be that Apollo and Loki were each unwilling to anger the herald that had become such a close friend to them both.

Regardless of the cause, the Greek archer and the Norse trickster had not seen much of each other since Loki's return.

Loki wasn't sure, but he thought that Hermes—despite his assurance that he was okay with the relationship— might be secretly relieved.

Although Hermes often developed a troubled expression when he watched Loki poke at his food instead of eating it, or head off to bed with his thin shoulders hunched over, he kept his thoughts to himself. Loki was endlessly grateful for that.

The Norse god soon learned that Apollo was not as thoughtful.

The healer surprised Loki late one evening as he was headed back to his cottage after dinner. Just as Loki rounded a corner, Apollo swooped out of the shadows and moved to block his path. His lips were pursed.

Loki eyed him, trying not to feel wary. "What do you want?"

"So polite," Apollo said, his voice soft even though his expression was troubled. "Is it so wrong that I wish to speak with my friend?"

"I'm not your friend," Loki said. They had barely spoken to each other and he was already feeling annoyed. He could sense where the conversation was going—and it was a topic that he would rather not discuss.

"Nor are you my enemy," Apollo pointed out.

_Why was his voice_ always so_ calm and collected? _"Just get to the point, already," Loki snapped.

He was surprised to see a flicker of hurt in Apollo's eyes before the blonde's mask fell back into place. "Fine. I will." He now spoke with an edge.

Loki waited.

"It's obvious that there is something the matter with you. You aren't living anymore—you haven't been since when rescued you from that cavern."

Loki flinched at the mention of the cavern, but Apollo pressed on.

"I'm tired of watching you sulk around, going through the motions of life yet looking so lifeless. You send full plates of food back to the kitchen every night. Instead of sleeping you wander around the palace after we've all gone to bed. And—you never look at me anymore. You always used to."

The last part was added only after a moment of hesitation.

"I'm _aware _of what I do," Loki said, his voice irate. "It's none of your concern. You should really learn how to mind your own business."

Apollo's eyes narrowed and Loki stiffened, preparing himself for the blow.

"Don't you _dare _snap at me for being concerned about you."

"I—"

"I will _not _sit around idly, watching as you turn yourself into a ghost! I _refuse _to!" His beautiful voice rose with each word until Loki's eardrums began to throb in protest.

"Do you remember when you used to hate me?" the red-head asked in a stiff voice. "What happened to that? I think I liked you better that way."

Apollo's eyes had become blue slits. "We became lovers," he hissed. "That's what happened."

"Well, we're not anymore. So why don't you go back to despising everything about me, and I'll go back to turning myself into a ghost, so we can both live happily ever after?"

"You're a fool, Trickster. Have you lost the ability to feel? To care?"

"Have you lost the ability to understand that I _don't want to have this conversation_?!"

Loki fell silent, breathing hard.

After a few seconds, Apollo said quietly, "I understand that you're worried. You _should _be worried. What you shouldn't do is let it take over your life. Everyone has a destiny, and no matter what you do, the outcome will be the same."

Loki stared at him.

Here was the god that he had read about in Homer's poems: Majestic and terrible, beautiful and wise.

"I'm trying to decide if I want to punch your or kiss you," Loki finally said in a quiet voice.

Finally, a small smile crossed that stern face. "I think I would prefer the kiss."

So Loki moved forward until his body was flush against Apollo's, until the familiar intoxicating scent flooded his nostrils and clouded his mind.

He lifted his face and Apollo gave another small smile, reaching up to brush the stray strands of auburn hair out of Loki's face, letting his fingertips linger on the pale cheeks. Loki let himself gaze into the beautiful eyes of the golden-haired god, mentally counting all the different shades of blue. The eyes came closer as Apollo leaned forward, and then fluttered shut when their lips met in a gentle kiss.

It only lasted for a few seconds, but Apollo didn't move away when their lips broke apart. Instead he brushed his lips against Loki's ear, and the Norse god felt himself shiver. "If you ever need anything," Apollo whispered, "I'll be here.

And then he was gone, vanishing as suddenly as he had come.


	7. Eavesdropping

**A/N: This chapter is dedicated to _Marlie Parson, _and everyone else who waited patiently...**

* * *

Loki did his best to keep Apollo's words in mind. He ate the food that Hestia cooked, drank the wine that Hebe poured, and tried to participate in the conversations that the chatterbox named Hermes initiated. Whenever he met Apollo's eye across the table, the archer would smile at him as though to say, "I'm proud of you."

He never stopped planning, though. _Something, _he always thought as he laid in bed. _There has to be _something _I can do to bribe Odin. _

But he could never think of anything.

* * *

Loki had been sitting in one of the many palace courtyards with Hermes and Hestia when it began.

He had been surprised when he learned that, besides Apollo, Hestia was the messenger's best friend and favorite aunt. After all, they were polar opposites. Hestia rarely spoke and Hermes never shut up. But, as Loki had soon learned, the relationship worked out very well. Like now—Hermes was doing all the talking while Hestia listened attentively, murmuring her thoughts in a low voice at periodic intervals.

The trickster was caught off guard when Apollo walked into the courtyard, bringing with him the light that he seemed to naturally emit. Hermes, too, was clearly surprised. His voice trailed off as he stared at the newly-arrived god.

Apollo was once again bare-chested, and his skin seemed to glow in the rays of the sun. His blue eyes seemed brighter than usual in the daylight, and they came to rest on the trio.

Hermes spoke before the archer could explain his presence. "What are you doing here, Apollon? I thought you were going to be in Delphi all day."

"I actually wanted to speak with you." Although Apollo's voice was soft, his words were clearly heard.

Hermes looked even more surprised than before. He looked at Hestia. She gave him a small nod. Then he glanced at Loki. The trickster shrugged.

Hermes shrugged too and jumped to his feet. "Okay then. Let's go."

They left the courtyard together.

* * *

Loki honestly hadn't meant to eavesdrop. It had happened by mistake. When he and Hestia had went their separate ways, Loki had returned to the palace, planning on heading back to his cottage. He was halfway there when he heard raised voices.

He paused, confused, and then, without thinking, headed in the direction of the shouts.

He arrived at a curtained-off doorway. There was a small gap between the curtain and the wall. Peeking through, he saw an enraged Apollo and seething Hermes.

_"What were you thinking?!" _Apollo was hissing. "How could you tell Father?!"

"You _know _our rules, Apollon!"

"I _trusted _you!"

_"I'm sorry!" _Hermes screamed, and Loki was horrified to hear that there were tears in his voice. "I—I'm _sorry_. I don't know what else to say!"

They fell silent. Apollo was glaring at him, his eyes flashing. Hermes was red-faced, tears swimming in his green eyes. Loki couldn't believe how upset the messenger was.

"I'm sorry," Hermes whispered again. "I don't want you to be angry with me. I can't stand it when you're angry with me."

Apollo still didn't say anything.

_Say something, _Loki hissed in his mind.

He was shocked when he saw Apollo step forward and take Hermes' face in his hands. Blue eyes bore into green. Hermes looked as shocked as Loki felt. His lips were parted in a dumbfounded expression.

"What—what are you doing?" Hermes squeaked.

"Why don't you just _tell _me how you feel?" Apollo asked, and his voice was still hard. "Why do you continue to tiptoe around me? Do you think you have a right to be jealous when you never said anything to me?"

"Because I know you don't feel the same way about me," Hermes answered. His face was still trapped between Apollo's hands and he sounded like he was struggling to breathe.

"You presume to know what I feel?" Apollo sneered. "You're clever but not to that extent."

"What do you mean?" Hermes' voice was now softer than a whisper, ragged and torn, and Loki had to strain to hear him.

Apollo's voice was also low. His hands fell from Hermes' face, coming to a rest on the slender shoulders. "I won't wait around for you."

"What do you—"

"You know very well what I mean," Apollo snarled, shaking the messenger by the shoulders. "It's now or never, Hermes. Tell me."

"But—"

"Tell. Me."

"Apollon, I can't," Hermes said helplessly. "I don't want things to change between us…"

_"Tell me!" _

_"I love you!" _

The supernatural shouts shook the walls. Loki, so engrossed was he in the scene before him, didn't even notice when a dismayed spider fell from the ceiling and landed on his shoulder before scuttling downwards.

The two Greek gods had paused after their outbursts; they were both breathing heavily, each glaring at the other.

Hermes was the first to speak. "Are you happy now?" he ground out. "Or was that not what you wanted to hear?"

Apollo didn't say anything. His eyes seemed to be frozen on a spot above Hermes' shoulder.

When the elder god remained silent, Hermes went on. Loki hated to hear his voice so hard and emotionless. "Apollon, if you want to go, just go. You don't have to say anything to me." He hesitated, and then in a quieter voice added, "I've always known you didn't feel the same way about me."

Loki had to stifle a laugh at that; sometimes he wondered if all the rumors about Hermes being so brilliant had any truth to them at all. _Honestly. _Apollo had been dropping hints all over the place, but Hermes remained as oblivious as ever.

Although, he pondered, what exactly was it that Apollo felt? Love? Lust? Something else entirely?

"I know," Apollo's soft voice was finally heard. "I know you love me. I wanted to hear you say it." And then, before Hermes could respond, Apollo leaned forward and touched his lips to the messenger's in a kiss that was tender, romantic, and everything that Loki's kisses with the blonde _hadn't _been.

At first, it looked like Hermes' body had frozen with shock. To Apollo, it must have been like kissing a statue. Loki's eyebrows rose in amusement.

Indeed, the god of light pulled away after a few seconds. "Hermes?" he said worriedly. "Are you—"

It was Hermes' turn to cut the other god off, and that was exactly what he did when he leapt forward with a force that surely would have knocked down anybody _without _the strength of a god. But Apollo _did _have the strength of a god, and rather than falling flat on his back, he let the younger god jump into his arms, wrap eager arms around his neck, and kiss him in a manner that, if Loki was going to be honest with himself, was sort of arousing.

With a wide grin, Loki settled his weight against the wall and adjusted his head for a better view into the room.

This was going to be good.

* * *

**Thank you for taking the time to read!**


	8. Big Picture

**A/N: I'm sorry this is a short chapter, but I wanted to assure everyone that I haven't forgotten about this story. I've been rather busy and haven't been in the writing mood, but knowing that there are at least a couple people that want me to finish will motivate me to keep writing. :) **

* * *

To Loki's slight disappointment, his two Greek friends didn't go any further than steamy kissing.

It was nearly dinnertime by the time Hermes left Apollo's room; Loki made himself invisible as the messenger walked past, and then when he was out of sight, sauntered into Apollo's room with a barely-concealed grin.

Apollo was already in the process of re-braiding his hair, which Hermes had managed to effectively muss when trying to run his hands through it. He glanced up when the trickster entered and then drawled, "I don't recall inviting you in."

"Probably because you didn't," Loki told him. "I invited myself."

Apollo sighed. "I suppose you're here to giggle about Hermes and myself?"

When Loki looked shocked, Apollo rolled his eyes. "That's an unattractive position for your jaw to be hanging in, Trickster. Don't look so surprised. I felt your presence the entire time."

Loki was incredulous. "And you didn't tell me to go away?! What are you, some sort of exhibitionist?"

Apollo shrugged, unconcerned. "I have nothing to be ashamed of."

Loki decided to drop the subject; it was approaching a level of weirdness that even he was uncomfortable with. "So I suppose this means the thing between you and me is over now?" he asked with a grin.

Apollo glanced at him. His fingers, which were busily braiding strands of hair together, never paused. "I was under the impression that it had been over for quite awhile now. But as Hermes and I have yet to establish a relationship, I wouldn't say no to you if you happened to come wandering into my room in the middle of the night. Oh, really," he said, sounding annoyed. "Is there something wrong with your jawbone, or do you always leave your mouth hanging open? Shut it; you're going to catch flies."

"Please _tell _me you're joking," Loki begged. "Apollo, you can't think like that. You can't _hurt _him! He's—he's in _love _with you!"

It was only the third time that Loki had actually called Apollo by his name, and the Greek god looked vaguely surprised before his expression once again became irate. "I'm not bound to him, Trickster. As I just said, we are not in an official relationship, and until we are, I see no need to—"

"You just kissed him for _three hours_!" Loki cried.

Apollo jumped to his feet, his expression thunderous. It crossed Loki's mind that if he were smart, he would probably be running in the other direction by now.

"Let me make sure I'm hearing this correctly," the blonde said in an acidic voice. "Am I actually being lectured by the same person who threw a poisoned dart at his lover, who deserted his wife and children, and who essentially called me a whore and Hermes pathetic?'

"The dart wasn't _poisoned_," Loki snapped.

"Big picture," Apollo snorted.

"So what you're telling me is that you're going to keep sleeping with whomever you want until Hermes asks you in plain words to be exclusive?"

Apollo glared at him.

"Do you have a fear of commitment or something?" Loki said in a biting voice.

"Don't you _dare _talk to me about commitment, you filthy hypocrite." The words cut through the air like a dagger.

Loki sneered. "It certainly looked like you enjoyed kissing him. You never kissed _me _like that."

Apollo sneered right back at him. "Upset about that?"

"You really are a little kid at heart, aren't you?"

"If you don't have anything intelligent to say, feel free to leave."

"Or what?" Loki taunted.

Apollo shot him a withering look. "I think you're forgetting that I'm a warrior."

Loki gave a derisive laugh. "Oh really, now? You know how to use a bow, so that makes you a warrior?"

Apollo snarled and pointed at the doorway. "_Get out!" _

"Gladly," was the answer, and without further ado, Loki stomped out of the room.

* * *

The next time Loki saw Apollo, the Greek healer was in a courtyard with his twin, Artemis. They were both holding gleaming silver bows. Two archery targets had been set up. As Loki watched, Artemis nocked an arrow, raised the bow, and sent the arrow flying. In the space of a second, the tip had embedded itself directly into the center of the target.

She turned and smirked at her brother. "I win."

Apollo scowled and opened his mouth, probably to make some sort of scathing response, but then he spotted Loki. "Look what the cat dragged in," he said instead.

Artemis turned around and made a face at Loki.

He raised his eyebrow at her. "If you keep looking at me like that, I might start to think you don't like me."

"That wouldn't be an inaccurate assumption," she said coldly. "If you ever hurt my brother again…"

She wrapped her long fingers more firmly around her bow as if to punctuate that sentence.

Loki was incredulous. "If _I _hurt your brother?! You need to get your facts straight, woman."

Her eyes flashed. "I have a _name._"

Loki paused. A sheepish expression crossed his face. "Uh…yeah. What is that, again?"

She took a menacing step forward and Loki held up his hands. "I was joking! I know what your name is. Artemis, right?"

"_Lady _Artemis."

_You've got to be kidding me. _"Whatever," he muttered. "Hey, _Lord _Apollo, can I have a word with you?"

Apollo smirked—an expression identical to his sister's—set down his bow, and followed Loki out of the courtyard. "I could get used to you calling me 'lord'," he said when they were out of Artemis's hearing range.

"Don't," Loki advised him with a scowl. "Have you thought any more about Hermes?"

Apollo shrugged. "Not particularly. I haven't seen him since that day."

Loki frowned. "Really?" He had seen Hermes just a few hours ago. "He must be avoiding you."

"He's probably having regrets," Apollo said, not sounding concerned in the least. "He's much too spontaneous for his own good."

"You forced him to tell you how he feels," Loki reminded the archer with a glare of his dark eyes.

"But I didn't force him to kiss me," Apollo retorted.

Loki snorted. "Apollo, have you _seen _yourself lately? Your face makes people who _aren't _in love with you want to kiss you."

Apollo chose to ignore that. "Does this conversation have a point?"

Loki wanted to say that _yes, _it did have a point, but he didn't think it would make a difference. So instead, he muttered "No" in a sullen voice.

"I didn't think so," Apollo said before turning on his heel and rejoining his sister.


End file.
